


Greta Versus the Weight of the World

by Some Like It Fat (code87)



Category: Chuck (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Belching, Belly Kink, Body Image, Denial of Feelings, F/M, Farting, Feeding, Feeding Kink, Feelings Realization, Fierce and Fat, Food Kink, Hand Feeding, Minor Canonical Character(s), Secret Crush, Secret Identity, Self Confidence Issues, Spies & Secret Agents, Strangers to Lovers, Trust Issues, Weight Gain, eventual mutual weight gain, fat admiration, loss of physical fitness, minor character centric, sex scenes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-05-02 20:45:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 67,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14553180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/code87/pseuds/Some%20Like%20It%20Fat
Summary: Alternate Universe.  What if the Greta from the episode, "Chuck Versus the fear of Death" was a longtime friend of Sarah Walker, and ally to Team Intersect, instead of a minor character? And what if she was in denial about having feelings for a certain chubby Buy More staff member for a long time? Would she still have gotten fired from the Buy More, or would fate have had more substantial plans in store for the short-tempered, brunette secret agent known as Greta?





	1. Greta Versus a River in Egypt

**Author's Note:**

> I know. I must be crazy to start yet another story when I am already in the middle of starting or finishing three other stories on this site, but the idea for this tale wouldn't leave me alone until I at least wrote the first chapter. So here it is, a story based around the paring of two minor characters from a TV show that was canceled years ago, and a niche kink that only a minority of people on this planet seem to have. But I hope at least a few people manage to enjoy this story anyway, despite the fact that it has been years since I actually watched Chuck, so there may be some unintentional continuity errors.
> 
> Without further ado, the moment that nobody asked for, and only I have been looking forward to, I humbly present to you, my readers, "Greta Versus the Weight of the World!"
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Chuck, or any of that show's associated characters or plot-lines. This story is for entertainment purposes only.

This story is VERY SLIGHTLY based off of a subplot of the episode, “Chuck Versus the Fear of Death” in which a a certain brunette government agent, one of many to go by the name “Greta” on the show, was being stalked by Jeff and Lester for her out of the ordinary (IE spy related) behaviors, and was “fired” from the Buy More for blowing her cover during the same episode she first appeared in. However, this story will very quickly deviate from canon, so don't expect things to happen the same way they did on that episode of the show!

Greta's POV:

I have a real name, but it's not important right now. Most people know me as “Greta”, the alias listed on the cheap plastic name tag I am wearing over my unappealing green work shirt, which, along with the rest of my uniform, helps to hide my impressive slender/athletic physique, which I work out several hours a day to keep. But my uniform does nothing to conceal my hazel eyes or brunette hair. I sigh as I prepare to step into the Buy More store that I pretend to work for, which is actually a front for my real employer, the CIA. I don't find the small building, or any of the people who work for the Best-Buy knockoff store, intimidating, of course. Having seen many of the wonders of the modern world during my travels, and facing down various criminals, terrorists, soldiers, and rogue and rival government operatives, dealing with another day at the Buy More is child's play. But still, many of the employees, including Jeff and Lester, and their childish shenanigans, can be quite annoying at times. To make matters worse, neither Morgan Grimes, the “manager” of the company, nor Colonel John Casey, the head of NSA operations at this location, seem to know how to rein employees in and keep them from bothering customers, their fellow employees, or most importantly (if said employees don't want me to stab them repeatedly) me.

The only thing that keeps me from pointing out the flaws in these two men's leadership skills right to their faces, besides the possibility of losing my job, is the fact that both John and Morgan are Sarah Walker's friends and teammates, and Sarah and I have been friends since our days on the C.A.T squad. To this day, we are the only two members of that organization who are still on good terms after the group split up. I just wish Sarah, or hell, even her boyfriend, Chuck Bartowski, who sometimes has half-way smart or funny things to say when he's not geeking out about this or that movie, comic, or T.V. show, were here today. Then I would have someone interesting to talk to as I do hours of tedious, mind numbing work that is far below my abilities, to distract me from the monatiny that is my civilian job until I can get debriefed on my last mission in Afghanistan in a few hours, then go home and get some much needed shut-eye. Unfortunately, both Sarah and Chuck are on some sort of top-secret assignment right now, and John and Morgan are at a Buy More conference, so I have to interact with a bunch of idiots for the next four hours. Yipee Skipee.

My spirits are someone lifted when a large man with a familiar face opens the front door for me on my way inside the Buy More. I smile and say “Thank you” to the chubby...no, not just chubby, obese...FAT (I still don't know why I find that word so oddly fascinating, although Sarah Walker has a theory on that she has shared with me several times) man with dark hair and glasses as I step inside the store, and I DO NOT BLUSH! 'No, it is just that the skin on my cheeks is still red from spending days in an area that is mostly desert,' I tell myself, trying to ignore the face that the skin on the rest of my body is the same shade it normally is. And If I just happened to add a little more sway to my step as I walk by the FAT Man named Fernando, and risk turning my head just enough to see that Fernando is checking out my toned ass as I walk away from him, what of it? There's nothing wrong with a girl wanting a man to pay her body a little attention, especially when it's a body she has worked so hard to maintain, right? Once again, I have to ignore a nagging voice in the back of my head. This one is reminding me that, 'If anybody else checked you out in such an obvious fashion, you'd want to punch his or her lights out!'

I manage to ignore this line of thinking for the rest of the day, but I can't help the small bit of joy that I feel when I find out that I'm going to be working with Fernando set up a few store displays for the next few hours. It's tedious work, but having Fernando, one of the less idiotic Buy More employees, helping makes things a lot more bearable. And for some reason, I actually find myself liking the little ways that Fernando volunteers to assist me with this project throughout the day. Like when he asks me if I want him to lift some of the heavier boxes for me, or hold a ladder stable when I go to retrieve an item that is on a high shelf. I don't really need his help, of course, but I let the FAT man help me from time to time, because he asks nicely if I want help, and NOT because of the way Fernando smiles when I accept his assistance.

The next four hours are tedious, for the most part. Although Fernando's offers of assistance makes him better than some of my other (especially male) coworkers, some of whom try to do things for me without asking, as if they don't think I can do them on my own, or just let me do all the hard work, the fact that the large man doesn't talk to me at all, except to offer assistance, bothers me. I'm not really sure why. I usually like silence, and I often wish Jeff and Lester would shut up whenever I'm forced to work with them. But for some reason, the fact that Fernando is obviously too intimidated by my presence to even talk to me, despite several bits of encouragement on my part (such as the one or two times I let Fernando look down my shirt when I purposely took a long time to grab an item that was on lower shelf) upsets me somehow. For some reason, I find myself wanting to know more about the FAT minimum wage employee, like what he does with his spare time, where he lives, and the biggest mystery of all, why the hell is Fernando so FAT?! After all, although being a Buy More employees isn't nearly as intense as being a spy, Fernando's job does require him to stand and walk for several hours a day, and to left heavy items quite frequently. Furthermore, all I have ever seen Fernando eat in the break-room are salads.

I suppose this thought is more distracting than I realize. While I am pondering the mystery of Fernando's corpulence while climbing a ladder, my feet somehow miss a rung, and I find myself falling backwards towards the floor!

Thankfully, a large pair of arms catches me, and I find myself falling back on a large, soft object that breaks my fall instead of the hard floor of the Buy More. It takes a couple seconds to register that the large, soft, warm object I am lying on is Fernando, and a couple more seconds pass before the FAT! (And damn! Who knew that a fat man's body could feel this good to lie on top of!?) man speaks. “Um, Greta?! Not to complain or anything, but could you get off of me now?!”

As if to emphasized Fernando's point, I feel as certain something start to grow hard and poke me from behind. I quickly get back to my feet, and it's right about then that I notice that several customers and employees, including Jeff and Lester, are staring at me, and at Fernando, who I quickly (but not without a lot of effort) help up from the ground. Somehow, I refrain from blushing, and instead shoot a smirk at the annoying duo who call themselves “Jeffster”, then turn towards Fernando with a smile. “Thanks for catching me, Fernando! I really could have hurt myself there!”

Fernando gulps as his cheeks turn bright red, and I can feel the stares of some of my “fellow employees” intensify. I shouldn't be surprised really, this is the most I've talked to any civilian in this building since I started working at the Buy More safe house Finally, Fernando manages to speak. “Anytime!”

I am still distracted the rest of the “work day” at the Buy More, but I manage not to come close to hurting myself again, despite the fact that I can't stop thinking how good it had felt to lie on top of Fernando for several seconds, or the words that Sarah had said several months ago, when I told her that I found FAT people, especially FAT men, not disgusting, but just...interesting. Fascinating, even. Because I couldn't imaging why people let themselves go like that. and ate themselves into obese blobs. At the time, my best friend had joked that “Hey, maybe you're a chubby chaser!”

Sarah's remark had seemed both funny and ridiculous at the time. Now I wasn't so sure.

I barely make it through the rest of the work day without doing or saying anything stupid, and it takes every bit of willpower and concentration I have to pay attention during the debriefing of my Afghanistan mission in Castle. After General Beckman is done debriefing me, and the screen I was using to communicate with her goes dark, I realize that, since it is so late in the evening, I am now alone in Castle. All of the other agents have already gone home for the day, as have all the of the Buy More employees. Knowing that I won't be given another mission, or have to work at the Buy More, for another couple of days, I decide to take the long route out of the building so that I have time to think before I reach my car and drive back to my small, spartan apartment, which seems to to become a little lonelier every night ever since I broke up with my last boyfriend and forswore dating anyone in the intelligence community again, due to all the personal and professional difficulties those kinds of relationships have caused me in the past.

I do not realize the significance of my decision to take the “scenic route” out of the building until I hear the distinct sound of someone chewing food and making “MMM!” sounds in one of the warehouse areas of the store near my exit. Deciding to investigate further, I take my standard issue sidearm, a .45 magnum, out of my purse and silently enter the warehouse. What I see inside of the warehouse causes me to lower and holster my sidearm, even as my jaw drops.

The “intruder” to the warehouse turns out to be Fernando. But the man isn't wearing his Buy More uniform. Instead the FAT man is wearing a large Star Wars T shirt with a picture of a gold bikini-clad princess Leia sitting next to Jabba the Hut (yes, I've seen Star Wars) , as well a huge pair of sweat pants. But none of these details, or even how and why Fernando accessed this warehouse after hours, is as important to me at the moment as the sight of Fernando devouring the huge amount of food that he has positioned on several crates in front of him.

For some reason, I can't make my legs move my body away from its position behind a large stack of crates, and I can't make my eyes moves away from Fernando as he eats. And Fernando eats a lot. First, I watch Fernando eat a huge, family-sized pizza from a local place that is know for its late-night deliveries, huge portions, and greasy pizza. My eyes are helpless to turn away from the obese man as he sloppily devours every single slice of the huge pizza within minutes, looking around the room several times as he does so, as if he is afraid someone will catch him eating like a pig. The FAT man gets grease all over his face, and sauce and bits of melted cheese all over his T-shirt and sweat pants, even as the man moans with pleasure between each bite.

As Fernando devours the massive pizza within five minutes with a series of huge, messy bites that are in stark contrast to his impeccable table manners while eating salads in the break room, I think to myself that I should be disgusted at Fernando's display of both gluttony and general slobbery But somehow, I don't feel repulsed at all as I watch the FAT man devour the massive dinner meant for five or more people. However, it's only after Fernando finishes the pizza and moves on to a huge order of bread sticks from one of those new fast-food Italian places, that I identify what it is I'm feeling. Only then does a sensation I've read about, and seen women experience while watching porn, but never experienced myself, make itself known as a sudden heat pools between my legs.

'What the fuck?! Am I aroused by this!? Am I getting off on watching Fernando eat like a pig?! What's wrong with me!?'

But somehow, my distressing thoughts seem far away as the heat continues pooling between my legs while I watch Fernando devour the tray of at least twenty bread sticks, spilling garlic and crumbs all over himself with every large, sloppy bite while continuing to look around, but still not spotting my position in a dark corner of the warehouse All I know right now is that nothing has ever made me feel this hot and bothered. Not masturbation, not sex toys, or porn, or even the sexual encounters I've had with various skinny or muscular men, and in college, a few women. All of these things pale in comparison to watching Fernando devour the feast before him, and moaning with pleasure in between bites.

It is only when Fernando moves onto the last item in his feast, a huge tray of brownies, that I realize that some of the quieter moans I am hearing are coming from my mouth, and that my right hand has,without my conscious knowledge, moved itself under my pants and underwear. However, instead of being alarmed by this instinctual behavior, I decide to run with it, and I begin to slowly finger my pussy to relieve myself of some of the arousal I am experiencing right now, while trying not to moan too loud. However, instead of instant relief, I actually find myself become more aroused as I watch Fernando eat the brownies. Once again, the FAT man moans in between large, sloppy bites. And once again, crumbs (chocolate ones, this time) rain down from Fernando's lips and onto his clothes. But an additional behavior sends my arousal into overdrive, as the FAT man now has to keep pulling his shirt down, since it keeps riding up his massive, stuffed belly, revealing the man's large,naked expanse of fat and pale flesh for my adoring eyes to see.

I suppress a huff of frustration at my inability to touch Fernando's sexy, naked, massive gut. But my frustration only deepens in the middle of Fernando's party-sized dessert, as the man begins belching and rubbing his large belly, which he now seems content to let hang free, outside of the confines of his shirt. My hands shake a little as I physically ache to rub Fernando's belly, to relieve the beautiful FAT man of some the tremendous pressure that is no doubt building up in his stomach. Instead, I continue to stroke myself, even though I can feel that my panties are already soaked through. However, I am able to keep quite...until the end of Fernando's feast.

Eventually, Fernando finally consumes the last brownie after what seems like an eternity, but my watch assures me it has been just shy of thirty minutes since I heard the fat man start eating, Fernando lets out a huge moan of pleasure, just before FAT the man's simultaneously burps and farts. The smell the man's huge ass, which has part of the crack exposed due to Fernando's sweatpants being dragged downward by his engorged gut, is rank, but I barely notice it. Instead, my senses are solely focused on the look of pure rapture and release on Fernando's messy, FAT, impossibly sexy face. In the moment, I feel a wave of pleasure wash over me, like nothing I've ever felt before, and my body involuntarily lets out a load moan as I cum several times within seconds!

A look of alarm passes over Fernando's face, but before the fat man can look in my direction to find the source of my loud moaning, I am already hidden from his view by a large shelf full of crates, and I am running for the door. I sprint to my sports car, and although I've probably run faster to get away from mortal peril during a mission at some point, I really can't remember when that was. Thankfully, I am able to get to my car, start it, and pull out of the parking lot long before Fernando ever exits the building

I speed all the way home, but thankfully, I am not pulled over. During the short drive home, I wonder what came over me in the warehouse, and whether I should report Fernando for sneaking into the Buy More after hours. I'm still not sure how to classify my feelings towards Fernando by the time I get back to my apartment complex, but by then, I'm sure of two things. One, I need to thoroughly wash the pants and panties I am wearing right now, since they are both soaked through with my own cum, an experience I was not prepared for, since tonight was the first time I've ever had an actual orgasm. And two, even though both security concerns, and several government regulations, are in favor of me ratting out Fernando for his after-hours gorging at the Buy More, I am not going to do so. At least not until I sort of my feelings for the FAT man who has always acted like some strange, but not unpleasant, mixture between a pervert and a gentleman around my person.

Once I have had the chance to shower, change, and climb into bed, I mentally take stock of this evening's events again. I'm still not entirely clear about how I feel about Fernando, but I do have one important realization that makes me gasp as my eyes widen as I sit up ind bed.. A realization that I know will make it very hard for me to sleep tonight. A revelation that I know will effect me, for good or for ill, the rest of my life.

I have a real name, but it's not important right now. Most people call me Greta. And tonight is the night I realized that I am a chubby chaser.


	2. Greta Versus the First Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Greta gets a lot more than she bargained for when she and Fernando go on their first date together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for everyone who read the first chapter of this story! Here's the second one! I hope you all enjoy it!

Author's note: After reviewing clips from the episode she appeared in, I realize that I had Greta wearing a work uniform from a different department of the Buy More than she “worked” at on the show. I attempt to explain this discrepancy a bit in this chapter.

Also, there is an explicit sex scene involving some burping, sweat and farting later in this chapter, but I will put notes in parentheses at the beginning and end of that scene, so readers can skip over this material if they wish, without missing any important plot points, although there will be some character development. Either way, I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Greta's POV:

I have a real name, but it's not important right now. Most people call me Greta.

I'm idly munching on the twelve inch sub I'm having for a late lunch in an out of the way restaurant, wondering what Fernando might be eating right now, when Sarah, who had finished her sandwich several minutes ago, breaks me out of this pleasant, but pointless, line of thinking when she speaks to me. “Honestly, Greta, it sounds to me like you've analyzed this decision for too long already. If you're hung up on Fernando, you should just ask him out, and see where things go from there.”

I'm already not in a good mood, because I was forced to work in a different department than Fernando at the the Buy More today. I've been mentally cursing myself all day for signing up for “cross training” with the IT department a month ago in order to spend more time around Sarah, who often hangs around Chuck at IT. Furthermore, I had to wear a new white top, tie, and skirt outfit for “work” today. The outfit looks damn good on me, but it would be absolutely USELESS in a fight. Since I'm already in a bad mood, it doesn't take much to make me annoyed with my blonde friend, who I invited out to lunch in order to discuss my conflicting thoughts and feelings for my FAT (I realize now that I love that word) “coworker”, Fernando. I even told Sarah about my voyeuristic encounter watching Fernando eat a feast of pizza, bread sticks, and brownies, some time ago, although I omitted certain details, like the fact that I caught Fernando doing so at the Buy More after hours, or that I masturbated as I watched the FAT man eat. After all, Sarah didn't need to know that last part. And once I discovered that Fernando had simply paid off the janitor to make a copy of the “master key” that only opened the non-classified sections of the retail store, so that he could eat to his heart's content in private, I determined that Fernando's actions that night did not represent a security threat to the intelligence community.

Even so, despite the incomplete information that I have given Sarah, I had still just spent the better part of an hour telling my blonde friend about the things I had recently learned about the FAT man that I, apparently, have feelings for. I expected a better response from Sarah then, “ask the man out and see what happens.” So, after rolling my eyes at my friend, I whisper. “Come on, Sarah. I paid for your lunch today, and all I asked in return is that you help me analyze my findings on Fernando, which I have accumulated over the last week via reconnaissance..”

Sarah chuckles, and her eyes have a teasing, but not malicious, look in them when she whispers back. “You mean stalking.”

I glare at Sarah for several seconds, but when my best friend of several years is unfazed by this, I sigh and reply. “Fine. I want you to help me analyze the information that I have gathered over the last week by stalking Fernando. So could you please take this seriously?”

Sarah sighs. “Fine. Okay, let's start with the possible pros to you dating Fernando....”

I shake my head. “No, I'm already familiar with Fernando's positive aspects. I know that I like his personality, because he's helpful, but not annoyingly so, and he doesn't talk much, but when he does, he usually says something intelligent. I also know Fernando likes me. And as I've recently realized, Fernando is also my type physically, which I'm really surprised you aren't teasing me about right now, by the way, considering how much of a hard time I give you for dating a nerd...”

Sarah crosses her arms in front of her, then frowns. “Chuck isn't a ner....”

But even Sarah couldn't finish that sentence with a straight face, especially after I raise my right eyebrow, so the blonde chuckles and amends her words. “Okay. I'll admit my boyfriend is a bit of a nerd, but I love him, and despite all the the times you have made fun of him, you have always been supportive of my relationship with Chuck when it counts.”

I smile at Sarah. “ What can I say? You and the nerd were obviously made for each other. So, is this your way of saying that you won't make fun of me for being a fat admirer?”

Sarah shakes her head. “You wish! But I am saying that, during serious moments like this, I can suspend my urge to make fun of your chubby chasing ways long enough to give you the best advice I can. And on that note...”

Sarah schooled her featured into a stoic mask as she said in a nearly monotone voice. “Con: There are plenty of other fat men in this city that you could date, now that you know you are a chubby chas...sorry, according to your 'research' online, female fat admirer, or FFA, is the preferred term for people like you. My point is, there are plenty of other big fish in the sea.”

I roll my eyes again. “Please give me a harder objection next. Fernando is the only fat guy I know in any capacity. And no, even if I didn't hate his guts, Jeff wouldn't count. I only like fat men, the chubby ones mean nothing to me. Besides, I feel...comfortable around Fernando, the way I wouldn't with someone new. And he can be a real gentleman, when he tries to be. He opens doors, and pulls out chairs in the break room, for me and other women at the Buy More all the time. And like I said, from the way he acts around me, I already know that Fernando likes me back, so that gives me the advantage.”

Sarah nodded. “Okay, fine. Con;Fernando is a bit of a pervert, and sometimes stares at women's bodies, even at work.”

I snort at that. “You just described nearly every male on the planet. Besides, I'm proud of my body, and I'm glad that Fernando's eyes give it the attention it deserves whenever he sees me! Plus, whenever I'm in the room with him, mine is the only body that Fernando stares at. And I like that.”

Sarah sighs at that, says something like “It takes all kinds, I guess.” Under her breathe, then finally says. “Okay, fine. The biggest con of all: Fernando is nearly twenty-four years old, and still lives with his mother.”

But I am already prepared for this objection as I whisper to my friend. “Actually, I did some research on this subject. The only reason he still lives with his mother is because Fernando decided to forego college, despite having a 4.0 grade point average in high school, and being offered a full ride to Stanford, in order to stay home and take care of his sick mother right after his father died. He even liquidated his college fund to help pay for some of his mom's medical bills. If Fernando hadn't done those things, his mom would probably be dead now. And not to put too fine a point on it, but as someone whose family died when I was fourteen, well...let's just say that I can sympathize with Fernando's devotion to what's left of his family. Besides, if I decide to date Fernando, and we make it to the third date...I can always just invite him over to my place. Beyond that, I'm sure Fernando and I could figure something out.”

Sarah shakes her head and grins then. “You see? Every time I try to give you a possible negative to dating Fernando, you turn it into a positive. You're stacking the deck in Fernando's favor because you like him so much. You've already made up your mind on this matter. So just ask Fernando out already!”

I shake my head. This decision can't be that simple. Can it? “Are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, when I started working at this safe house, I was told that dating Buy More employees was strongly discouraged.”

Sarah sighs and rolls her eyes at the same time. “Key word there being 'discouraged', as in, frowned upon, not prohibited, as in forbidden. Technically, you wouldn't be breaking any rules by dating Fernando. Casey might give you a little flak for it, but you wouldn't receive any disciplinary action unless that relationship interferes with your duties. Besides, since when have you cared about government regulations telling you who you can and can't date? You've dated plenty of fellow agents on teams you've been a part of, which we both know is against regulations. Even that married guy. What was his name?”

“Special Agent Frank Zadonza.” I say with a huff. “ And to be fair, I didn't know he was married at the time, and when I found out, I broke things off with him immediately and told his wife, Mary, what her husband had been up to. I don't think that fancy red Ferrari of his is ever going to run again after the beating Mrs. Zadonza gave it with a golf club. And I hear Frank lost a lot of money in the divorce.”

Sarah smiled. “Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy.”

I return the smile, then frown. “Yeah. Mary took the whole thing hard, though. I really think she loved Frank. But she seems to be doing better lately, and she and I even go to get drinks and try to pick up guys together every other weekend. Or, we used to, anyway...”

I smile at Sarah again. “Hopefully, my dance card will be full after I ask Fernando out later today.”

Sarah gives me a knowing look. “So, you have committed yourself to asking Fernando out, then.”

I still have a smile on my face when I nod. “Yes. I would be a bit of a hypocrite if I didn't take a risk to go after the guy I like, wouldn't I? After I encouraged you to date Chuck, behind the agencies back and all, just a few months after your assignment to protect the nerd started. I just couldn't stand to watch you wrestle with yourself any longer than that, when you were already obviously in love with Chuck by then. Plus, watching you two going back and forth with the mating dance was getting really annoying.”

Sarah practically beams at me then, and I can tell she is thinking about how much she loves Chuck when she whispers. “Whatever your reasons, telling me to, in your words, 'fuck the rules and date the nerd already!', was the best advice you ever gave me. I mean, the General went ballistic when she found out I was dating an agency asset behind her back, but even she eventually figured out that Chuck and I work much better together, professionally, now that we're dating. Can you imagine how long it might have taken for Chuck to figure out how to use the Intersect 2.0 properly if we hadn't had a close enough relationship for him to tell me about all his feelings at the time, so that we could work through them together? It might have taken Chuck weeks, instead of five days, to get the hang of the New Intersect!”

I chuckle at Sarah's words. “Weeks? Try months! The nerd would be absolutely lost without you!”

Sarah shrugs. “Maybe. But I'm absolutely sure that I would be lost without him. Being with Chuck makes me a better person. Plus, If I hadn't already been dating Chuck at the time, I might have even given into Agent Shaw's advances before I found out he was a traitor working for the Ring last year, Can you imagine how much of a disaster that might have been!?”

I suppress a shudder. I don't even want to think about what might have happened to my best friend if she'd ended up dating that scumbag. But I quickly turn my thoughts to a happier matter and whisper. “Well, anyway, I have to give a status update on one of my missions to the General in thirty minutes, then ask Fernando out afterwards, so I'd better get to that. Thanks for the advice, nerd lover.”

Sarah smirks and gets up from her chair the same time as I do, then replies to my words with a smile while walking out of the restaurant “Anytime, chubby chaser!”

I walk out the door behind my friend, taking what's left of my sub sandwich with me. Sarah and I have spent so long talking that the sub is cold now, but that doesn't mean I'm going to let it go to waste. After all, Black Forest Ham is my favorite kind of sandwich, and I like eating as much as the next girl. Ok, maybe a little more than the next girl. Enough that, despite all of my attempts at portion control, I'd probably be fat if I didn't get up early every morning to exercise three hours a day. However, since I am an exercise nut, I know I've earned every calorie in this sandwich, and I'm not letting a single delicious bite of it go to waste.

However, even this delicious sandwich can't keep my thoughts away from the nerve wracking event that I know will await me later in the evening. Even as I savor bites of my sandwich at stop signs and red lights, I can't help but wonder whether or not Fernando will accept my offer to go on a date, or if he'll let his anxiety get in the way. I really hope tonight goes well. Because I'm definitely resolved that tonight is the night that I will ask Fernando out.

hours later, Fernando's POV:

'Tonight is the night.' I tell myself as I tug a heavy cart, filled with several crates of Buy More merchandise, behind me. I am about to use said merchandise to set up yet another store display this evening. Ironically, my fat, disgusting body is the only remaining one in the store that has enough muscle mass for this particular job, since all of the more buff employees already left for the evening before my second shift of the evening started. Still, I try not to feel too bad about this turn of events, since my double shift apparently coincides with that of the brunette Greta, who I saw enter the building earlier in that wonderful new work uniform of hers, which shows off her legs quite well. And maybe I'm crazy for even thinking about the possibility, but since I haven't been able to get that beautiful woman out of my head since the first day I saw her, and this Greta has always nice to me (nicer, at least, than she is to the other male employees, most of whom stalk/and or hit on her frequently), I've decided to finally execute my mad plan. “Tonight is the night I'm going to ask the new Greta out!”

A dark haired, exotic-looking (okay, so I've never bothered to ask the annoying guy where he's from) man slunks over to a nearby display I just finished setting up, then leans against said display too hard, knocking several items off of the shelves I just stacked. Lester then smirks and says. “You might want to put some deodorant on first, big guy. Because...” Lester gets uncomfortably close to one of my armpits and takes a sniff before I push him away from me, and the man finishes with. “You reek!”

I blush after I realized I had voiced my thoughts about asking Greta out aloud, then sigh as I look down at my armpits, which have become stained with sweat from doing so much heavy lifting today, and I reluctantly take a sniff. 'I really do stink.' I think to myself. 'I guess I will have to wait another day to ask Greta out. Not that a clean shirt would greatly improve the chance's of a fat blob like me getting a beautiful women like her to go out with me. Fuck! If only I didn't love food so much, I wouldn't be so damn fat!' But instead of saying all of that, I just say. “What do you want, Lester? Are you going to be putting those items back on the shelf?”

A chubby (but still not as fat as me) balding man walks up next to his friend, takes a look at some of the display items his dark haired friend just knocked over, then shakes his head with false sympathy. “Sorry, no can do. Lester and I aren't what you would call hard labor people.”

I shake my head and glare at the Jeffster duo. “What do you two want, then?”

Lester shakes his head and frowns. “Tsk tsk. Shame on you, Fernando, for thinking I wanted something from you when I'm just trying to look out for you, buddy. You really shouldn't ask that new Greta out. She's trouble. Jeff and I having been watching her comings and goings a lot lately. They appear to be most sinister.”

I laugh nervously at Lester's words. “You mean, you've been stalking her. Like one of your cam girls. And that makes Greta the creepy one. Right...”

Lester and Jeff both glare at me, and Lester points his right index finger at my face and says. “Sarcasm is the recourse of a weak mind, my friend. This Greta is up to something, and I'm going to find out what. Besides, “Lester smirks at me....

Greta's POV:

“....There's no way that a girl like the new Greta, even being as much of a freak as she is, would go out with a big guy like you!”

I hear Lester's voice from behind a nearby shelf as soon as I re-enter the Buy More proper from one of the secret exits from Castle, following a long status update meeting. My fists involuntary clench as I think to myself that, 'I will make it my personal mission to end that annoying man's life if he's talking down to the man I lov...like. Yes, like is definitely the right word. I think. '

A couple seconds later, my fears are confirmed, and my heart breaks a little for Fernando as my ears strain to hear his timid voice from behind the shelf. “All I wanted to do was ask her if she wanted to go out to dinner with me, or maybe just a coffee. But I guess, you're right. Greta's way out of my league.”

My fists clench harder, and I have to fight to keep my nails from digging further into my skin and drawing blood. when Jeff starts to add. “For sure. She may be a freak, but physically, that girl is at least a nine out of ten. And you're more like a o....”

But I quickly walk around the corner and cut Jeff's words short as I speak, causing Jeffster and Fernando's eyes to widen as I do so. “Actually, Fernando. I would love to have dinner with you. When do you get off work?”

Fernando's cheeks turn bright red, even as Jeff and Lester's jaws drop. I wait several seconds for Fernando to regain his composure and say. “Nine. I have a double shift, because I'm working one of them for a sick friend. So I close tonight.”

I smile at Fernando and say. “That's perfect! I know this little five star Italian restaurant in town that is open late, and has food that is just to die for! The owner there owes me a favor....” 'For saving his life from a mob boss' protection racket.' But I obviously don't say that part out loud. “And I'm sure I could get us a reservation for ten o'clock! When can you pick me up?”

Fernando's face falls a little. “Actually, Greta, a five star restaurant is a little out of my price range. And even if it wasn't, I'd have to hail a cab go get us there, since I don't have a car...”

I ignore Jeff and Lister's snickering as I give Fernando a little smile of encouragement. “That's okay. Like I said, the owner of the restaurant owes me a favor, so our meals will be on the house tonight And I can always pick you up at your house in my van once you are ready to go.”

I know where Fernando lives of course, due to my week-long reconnaissance of his person , but Fernando doesn't know that. So I simply pull a pen out of the pocket of my uniform, then take's Fernando's left hand in my left one, then write my phone number down on the palm of the man's soft, warm hand with my right. I then smile at Fernando and say. “Here's my phone number. Just text me your address at your earliest convenience, and I'll pick you up there!”

Fernando nods and says. “Sure. Sounds great!” then smiles and gives me a look that if filled with such complete and total adoration, that I swear my heart melts in my chest right then. 'Seriously,' I think to myself, 'If Fernando keeps looking at me like that tonight, there's at least a seventy percent chance that I will let him sleep with me one our first date, and that third date rule can go fuck right off!'

I don't know how long Fernando and I have been making eyes at each other when Lester clears his throat and says. “Well, this is awkward Come, Jeff. Our presence is clearly not wanted at this juncture.”

Jeff nods and follows Lester, saying something under his breathe that sound suspiciously like, “Those two freaks deserve each other!” But I ignore him. I'll make Jeff and Lester pay for bad-mouthing both me and Fernando later. Right now, I have a date to prepare for. I smile at Fernando, one more time, then turn around to leave the Buy More , when I spot a bunch of items on the floor in front of a nearby, ruined display. I stop then, point at the items on the floor, and turn to Fernando. “Did those two jerks just knock over this display?”

Fernando shrugs. “It's okay, I'll put everything back.”

I sigh and shake my head. “I swear, those two can be such assholes sometimes. Here, let me help you put everything back. It's the least I can do since you help me all the time when I work with you. Besides, I still owe you big for saving my life last week with the whole ladder incident.”

Fernando shrugs. “I don't know, Jeff and Lester aren't always that bad. As for the ladder?” Fernando shrugs and blushes. “That was nothing. I was just trying to keep you from getting hurt. It's nothing you wouldn't do for me. By the way, shouldn't you be going home now that you're off the clock?”

I shrug and smile. “I don't think anybody's going to get too upset with if I work five minutes off the clock to help you put a display back together.”

Fernando nods, and the two of us quickly and efficiently put the display items back on the shelf in just over two minutes. I then smile at Fernando and start to walk away, letting the FAT man get a good luck at my legs by taking long strides as I do so, while thinking. 'What do you know? This new outfit does have it's perks!' On my way out of the store, I say. “Text me your address as soon as you get off work! I'll be picking you up at exactly 9:45. Please shower first, but don't be late!”

But Fernando doesn't see the wicked smile on my lips as I walk out the front door of the Buy More. Yes, if thing go really well tonight, I will definitely want Fernando to be all freshened up and ready for me to have my wicked way with him this evening...

 

Some time later...

Fernando's POV:

I sigh as I adjust my tie for what feels like the hundredth time while looking in the mirror in my mom's room, wondering why seeing me all dressed up for my date is so important to my mom. I sigh as I straighten my tie yet again. As if any amount of tie straightening will make up for the massive body that is staring back at me when I look at my reflection. “This suit is too tight”

My mom, Jane Hernandez, laughs and shakes her head from her position on the bed. The steady beeping of various monitoring devices tells me that my mother is in stable condition, so I'm not too worried about her being okay when I'm out on my date tonight. My mom points to me and says. “You look great, Fernando. And that suit isn't tight. It's just fits you well.”

I shake my head as I look at the black slacks, dark shoes and socks, black jacket, white button down shirt and black tie I am wearing. Many of these garments cling to me like a second skin, but miraculously, all the buttons and zippers are holding...for now. “Yeah, if by fitting well, you mean shows off how fa...”

I stop myself before I can complete my thought, but my mom finishes it for me anyway. “How fat you are? Fernando, you come from a large family. Hell, I'm bigger than you, and so was your father, before he died! There's nothing wrong with how you look, and I don't want you to be ashamed of who you are!”

I shake me head. “I'm sorry, mom. That came out wrong. I'm not ashamed . I just...I really like this girl, and I want her to like what she sees when we she looks at me on our firs...I mean our date.”

My mom chuckled at that. “You were about to say first date, weren't you? I guess you really do like this 'Greta'. That's good. But just remember, Greta technically asked you out after you had decided not to try to get a date with her.. Which means she already likes you, and has an idea of just how special you are...”

I smile at my mom as I interrupt her. “Sorry, mom. I don't have time for a pep-talk. I have to be ready for Greta to pick me up in...” I look at my watch. “Wow, I still have ten whole minutes before 9:45? I though for sure it would take me longer to get ready!”

My mom snorts. “You've been getting ready for over an hour. It's a good thing your boss was nice enough to let you off work over an hour early after you told him about your date tonight.”

I smirk at that. “Actually, Morgan gave me a high-five, then congratulated me multiple time for landing a date with Greta, then let me go home early to get ready after I promised him I would tell him if the date went well afterwards. Not that I'll actually tell Mr. Grimes if I get lucky enough to be able to kiss Greta on our first date or anything. A gentleman never tells, after all.”

My mom nods at that. “That's right. I've raised you well. Oh, by the way, I know Greta said you didn't have to pay for your meals tonight, but here...” My mom gets a handful of twenty dollar bills from a drawer in her bedside table and tries to hand them to me after I walk towards her bed. “Take this. You should at least give your server a good tip. It is a five-star restaurant, after all.”

I shake my head and try to pull my hand away. “I can't accept this, mom. It's too much!”

But my mom forces the money into my hand, then makes my hand close with her own. “Please take it. If the restaurant won't take a tip, buy that Greta girl something nice tonight. I know how proud you are, son. That you don't like accepting handouts, but this is the least I can do after you postponed your future to take care of me, and liquidated your college account to do so, something I never should have let you do! The very least I can do to repay you for all the sacrifices you've made for me is give you some money so my son's first ever date goes smoothly!”

I sigh, but reluctantly put the money in my pocket. “Fine, but if I don't get the opportunity to use this money on the date, I'm going to bring it right back. I'll need to head downstairs to get going soon. If you need anything at all, or if something goes wrong, you call...”

“911.” My mother interrupts me. “I've made more trips the hospital than I care to remember in the last ten years, Fernando. I'm not going to interrupt your first date if I have another small crises. At this point, anything that doesn't kill me isn't worth getting upset over, and whatever does, well...” My mom shrugs. “There be nothing you, or anybody else, will be able to do about that.”

I shake me head at that. “Please don't say stuff like that, mom. And just...try to at least stay alive until I get home. I know it's already kind of late, but I promise I'll be back before one in the morning.”

My mom smiles, then shrugs. “Or whenever. You're an adult, Fernando. If your date goes really well..” I suppress a shudder, at my mom's tone of voice just then. I do not like the idea of her making insinuations about my sex life....as non-existent as it it “Don't tell me the details, off course, but feel free to come back later in the day tomorrow. After all, you don't have work tomorrow, and from what you've told me, this Greta girl seems to really like you. You're young, Fernando. You should be enjoying yourself more...”

Finally I can't take it anymore, and I hold my hands in front of me defensively. “Fine, I promise to try to enjoy myself on this date, although I doubt things with Greta will go that far tonight. Just promise me that you will never try to talk to me about my love life ever again!”

My mother laughs at that. “Fair enough. But I did put a condom in your wallet, just in case. Remember, safe sex is best! Now go ahead and go downstairs, I think I hear Greta's car pulling into the driveway already. I can get myself ready for bed. Go!”

Greta's POV:

As I walk up to Fernando's door from my van, I promise myself to be extra nice to Fernando tonight, because I know he is intimidated by me. The FAT man does not make that hard for me. Fernando opens his front door for me before I can even ring the doorbell to his home, and I can't help but check Fernando out for the several several seconds it takes for us to greet each other. And damn, Fernando looks really good in that almost skin-tight suit, which leaves very little to the imagination, and lets me see almost every inch of flab on my date's belly, leg's and torso. I have to resist the urge to lick my lips at the sight of the very obviously FAT man in front of me, as a single thought passes through my brain. 'Yum! Yeah, your odds of getting laid tonight just went up to eighty percent, sir!'

My thoughts about Fernando are startling me a little tonight, since I'm really not used to being this..eager on a first date. A one night stand, sure. But not a first date that I plan to go anywhere past one night. Part of me wants to chalk the flood of lust I'm feelings towards the FAT man as a result of my recent discovery that I'm a fat admirer. However, another part of me that I'm afraid to acknowledge keeps telling me that my long denied feelings for Fernando run a lot deeper than lust.

Fernando cuts off my thoughts as he smiles and says. “You look beautiful!”

“Thanks! You clean up really good yourself!” I smile at Fernando, then slowly spit around to give hims a very good view of my body in my little black strapless dress. I mentally commend Fernando for his attempts at restraint, as he manage not to look at my boobs, despite the ample amount of cleavage my dress leaves visible, but I see with my peripheral vision that Fernando fails to prevent himself from checking out my ass, which my dress clings to very tightly. My date tonight really is both a pervert and a gentleman. And that suits me, and my own dirty mind, just fine. “Do you like this old thing? I just through on the first thing that I saw in my closet.”

I'm lying of course. I agonized over which dress to wear tonight for over an hour. And I spent the next hour trying to find the right make-up, eyeliner, and shoe combination to go with the dress. I was going for a look that was seductive, without seeming trashy or desperate. Apparently, from the look of appreciation in Fernando's eyes, I succeeded. I lead Fernando by the hand towards my van then, while saying, “We better go now if we don't want to be late!”

However, even though I'm driving, Fernando still insists on opening my own door for me before he gets in the passenger side of the largest vehicle I own. I turn towards my date as he get his FAT body in the seat next to mine and exhale in relief when I realize that Fernando is able to shut the door and put his seat belt on without any problems. Still, I feel compelled to ask a simple question. “Are you comfortable, Fernando? You can adjust the seat to go back further if you need to.”

Fernando smiles at me and gives me a grateful look. “No, I'm good. Thanks for asking, though.”

The rest of the drive passed on in relative silence, aside from the sound of my radio playing. But then, when we are about two minutes away from the restaurant, one of my favorite pop songs starts playing, and I notice Fernando start lips syncing the words of the song perfectly while looking down, getting the timing just right, so I smile and turn up the music while saying. “I love this song too. I challenge you to a lip sync battle!”

Fernando just nods at me, and the epic lip sync duel begins, All to soon, however, the song ends, just as we reach the restaurant. I admit, if only to myself, the Fernando did a better job at lip syncing (a hobby that, until tonight, nobody I knew shared with me) the words to the song than I did. But I rationalize that I only lost because I had to focus my mind on driving as well, and I challenge Fernando to a rematch later, to a song of his choosing. Still, despite my upsetting loss , I'm all smiles by the time Fernando comes comes around to my side of the van to open my door.

Fifteen minutes into the date, and I'm already having a lot of fun.

As soon as we walk though the front door of the restaurant (which of course, Fernando opens for me) The owner of the establishment, Jackie Ecabado, a thin, bald man of Italian descent, comes to seat us, since it is technically after business hours, but an exception was made to keep the restaurant open for me and Fernando. However, as we are walking to our table, I can't help but notice that another, clearly Italian, young couple is sitting close to mine and Fernando's table. After Fernando gets my chair for me, then sits down himself, I ask the owner about this, and he says. “Oh don't mind my son and his new girlfriend. They are on their first date together, and I offered to let them have a late dinner as well, I hope that is alright, Miss...”

“Greta.” I say the name with a smile, but the intense look in my eyes is meant to indicate I do not wish to argue about my name this evening Apparently, the owner gets the message (and after watching me dispatch four armed mafia hit men with only a knife several weeks ago, the man should know better than to mess with me), because the next words out of Jackie's mouth are. “Of course, Miss Greta.”

I allow my smile to reach my eyes now as I say, “That's quite alright. This restaurant is more than big enough for two couples to enjoy dinner without bothering each other.”

I steal a glance at Fernando, who doesn't even seem to flinch at my slip up of referring to him and me as a “couple” already. I'm thinking that is a good sign when the owner hands me and Fernando menus, then says. “What would the two of you like to drink?”

Fernando lets me order for both of us,so I quickly do so “One bottle of wine for me and my date, please. Fernando and I require a good wine, but nothing too expensive. I don't want to take too much advantage of your hospitality, after all.”

The owner shakes his head and laughs. “That's very kind of you, Miss Greta, but after all you have done for me and my family, I insist that you and Mr. Fernando have the best wine in the house!”

Before the owner turns to leave and get the wine, Fernando speaks up. “Um...sir? Can I please have a glass of water as well? I don't want to get...you know, drunk, or anything, by just drinking wine.”

I quickly nod my head and add. “Water sounds lovely to me too. Please add one to my drink order as well, Mr. Ecabado!”

The owner of the establishment smiles and nods, and Fernando and I quickly look over our menus for a couple minutes before the owner brings out a very nice bottle of red wine, with two glasses for me and Fernando, two tall glasses of ice water, and and a large basket of warm rolls with a side of a copious amount of butter

As Fernando is staring down the rolls on the table, as if trying to decide whether or not he should have one, I quickly scan the entire menu, then hand my menu to the owner and give him my order. “One order of Fettuccine Alfredo, please!”

Fernando, on the other hand, only takes a passing glance at the menu before he passes it to Jackie while a pained look crosses the FAT man's face. “I'll just have a dry salad, please. I'm on a diet.”

But Fernando's stomach betrays him at that moment, as if it is trying to catch him in the act of lying about being on a diet, instead of just being nervous eating a lot around other people, and my date's belly growls loud enough for Jackie to hear it. The owner of the restaurant shakes his head. “No! My integrity as a restaurant owner is at stake! I will not allow one of my patrons to leave my restaurant hungry, especially not a special friend of Miss Greta! I will get a fully loaded Caesar salad for you, but I'm not leaving your table until you order something more substantial to go along with it!”

Fernando looks down at the table with a nervous look in his eyes, but I quickly reach across the table and take one of his soft, warm hands in my own and squeeze it reassuringly. When Fernando looks up, I smile at him and say. “Hey, just this once, forget about your diet, and eat whatever you want. I promise I won't tell anyone. I just want you to enjoy yourself tonight, okay?”

Fernando smiles back at me, then says. “Okay.”

The owner then gives Fernando his menu back, and after my date looks over the items for over a minute, the FAT man sighs. “I don't know what to order. Everything sounds good. Especially the five cheese lasagna and the pizza margarita...”

The owner laughs, then quickly takes the menu from Fernando's hands and says. “ That is okay. You are clearly very hungry, sir! I'll make both of those items for you!”

Jackie then dashes off before Fernando can utter a words of protest, and I can only hope the smile that is on my face doesn't give my wicked thoughts away as I imagine how full Fernando will be after eating two entrees from this restaurant, which is known for its large portions, or where on my date's body all of those extra calories will land as they turn into pure fat. However, I probably do give away my game a little bit when I pass the basket of dinner rolls to Fernando and say. “Please have some rolls. At least two. You really do seem hungry tonight.”

Fernando gives me a confused look then. “But I'm already going to have two entrees. Don't you think that will be enough food?!:

I shake my head. “The food here takes a little while to cook, because they make everything from fresh ingredients. That's why they bring out the rolls. You're hungry now, so you should eat something now. Please, eat some for me?”

My pouting face works like a charm, and Fernando takes two of the rolls and smothers them with butter, while I take a single roll and put a very small dab of butter on it. I eat my roll slowly, but Fernando wolf's down his first roll quickly, like a man possessed, although he makes a lot more effort to do so neatly than he did that fateful night in the warehouse. Around the time, Fernando finishes his first roll, Jackie brings out a huge bowl of Caesar salad, which is absolutely loaded with dressing and croutons After quickly saying, “Thank you!”, to the owner, Fernando starts eating the salad, and I do something just a little bit...naughty.

While Fernando is focused on the salad, I place another roll on my date's plate, then smile and start up a conversation with the FAT man. “So, Fernando, tell me a little more about yourself...”

To be fair, distracting Fernando, so he doesn't realize how much he is eating, is only part of the reason I ask my date about himself. I really do want for me and Fernando to get to know each other better, because I really like the FAT man, and I want this to be the first date of many for the two of us. Even so, as Fernando, and I , after a bit of gentle coaxing from me, talk, while we discover that we have at least one hobby in common (stargazing ), and that we both secretly love STAR WARS (a fact I already knew), I keep surreptitiously replacing the rolls Fernando eats by putting new ones on his plate (I even put extra butter on one of them, because Fernando keeps telling me how beautiful I look tonight), and I top off Fernando's wineglass whenever it gets close to empty. Off course, I also drink my share of the fruit of the vine, because this is damn good wine, and because I don't want to take advantage of Fernando by making him more drunk then me.

By the time Jackie comes back to our table with our entrees, Fernando's salad and all the rolls (only one of which had been eaten by myself) have already been consumed. The owner chuckles as he takes away our appetizer plates, then sets out my large order of Fettuccine Alfredo, which is a lot bigger than I thought it would be. Jackie then places a large (but not nearly as bit as the one in the warehouse) pizza, and a huge block of lasagna, in front of Fernando. “I see you two have already eaten all of your rolls.” Fernando looks perplexed by this statement, so I guess he hasn't been noticing me putting rolls on his plate, but the FAT mans shrugs this off as the owner resumes speaking. “I hope you two are still hungry, especially you, Mr. Fernando. We are out of carryout boxes this evening, and it would be a shame to let any of this delicious food go to waste, don't you think? Anyway, I'll leave you two lovebirds to it, then.”

I just nod as the owner leaves me and Fernando alone, then turn to my date fore the evening, who is staring down anxiously at the two large platters of food in front of him, and smile. “It's okay, Fernando. You don't have to eat everything. Just have as much as you can so that Mr. Ecabado won't be offended, okay?”

Fernando just nods, but I can spot the same gluttonous gleam in hie eyes as he had that night in the warehouse, and as we start eating dinner, Fernando quickly, but neatly, starts devouring a slice of pizza while I take a few slow bites of my pasta, I can't help but feel that the night is going perfectly. I start up the small talk again, and this time, it doesn't take as long for Fernando to join the conversation Among the facts that come up in the conversation (which is occasionally interrupted by Fernando making quiet “mmm” sounds between bites) are that I used to be really into Anime when I was a teenager, and that Fernando is actually an amateur, but talented, investor who has managed to triple the financial portfolios of his mom, himself, and even some of his friends, over the last year and a half. My date freely confesses, however, that he would need a college degree and a lot more capital to make a business out of the his self-taught investing skills. I shake my head and chuckle, then. “And there is one area you and I are complete opposites! I suck at saving money, and when I try to invest into the stock marker, I pick losers every time. Maybe I should let you invest some of my money instead!”

“Maybe you should!” Fernando chuckles back, and it is only then that I realized that I have become lost in my conversation with Fernando, and that I have already consumed half my plate of Fettuccine Alfredo (which is already more of the rich pasta dish then I intended to eat, but I can run off the calories tomorrow), and Fernando has already finished his large pizza, and is about a quarter of the way through his huge block of rich lasagna. Therefore, I decide to take advantage of the natural lull in the conversation, and just sit back and watch Fernando eat, even as I notice that his shirt buttons seem to be under a lot of stress from his already partly stuffed belly. As I admire Fernando's gluttony, while he stuffs one huge bite after another of the cheesy, rich pasta into his beautiful, FAT mouth with a fork, I feel a familiar heat start to pool between my legs. In that moment, I realize that, in the right non-judgmental atmosphere, and with just a little bit of encouragement, Fernando becomes just as much of an eating machine as he does when he thinks he is alone.

Fernando is almost done with his lasagna when I notice the restaurant owner's son and his date for the evening leave the dining area, arm in arm, and the dark-haired woman stops to whisper something in the young man's ear, and nibble on said ear for good measure, just before the two of them exit the restaurant I smile to myself. “Oh yeah, that man's getting laid tonight. I wonder if he'll still want that new girl of his around in the morning?”

“What makes you think she's going to sleep with him?” Fernando quietly asks from across the table just after finishing his lasagna, but just before he tries, and fails, to cover up the sound of the loud BURP! that escapes his lips. I mentally face palm himself for letting the wine get to me enough to make me think out loud, even as I chuckle and squeeze Fernando's hand to let him know that I don't mind his concussive eructation. He still says “I'm sorry!”anyway, but I tell him it's fine.

Finally, after several seconds, I shrug and whisper. “ As to your question about the other couple...Body language. I've been watching those two out of the corner of my eye since we arrived here. They have been holding hands all night, and rubbing each others legs...” I quickly, but gently, slide my leg up and down Fernando's right thigh under the table to demonstrate what I mean, then continue speaking as I smile at how red Fernando's face is right now. “For the last half hour. Then they were leaning on each other when they left the building while the woman whispered in the man's ear, and I think she was even nibbling on it a bit. So yeah, it definitely looks like those two are going to sleep together on their first date. Not that it's any of my business really. Just an observation.”

Fernando looks at me for a good, long moment, as if he was trying to figure something out, before he smiles, shrugs, and says. “You are a very observant person, Greta.”

“Thank you.” I smile at Fernando. And I try not to worry about the possibility that my date is already starting to figure out that I'm more than the Buy More employee I pretend to be.

But my anxiety goes up even more, for a completely different reason when the FAT man quickly says. “As for that thing you asked out loud, if that guy will still want that girl around if they sleep together after their first date...”

I wait with bated breathe for the rest of the sentence, even as Fernando hesitates to say what is on his mind, as his face turns bright red again. Because after his display of gluttony tonight, his gentlemanly behavior on our date so far, and how hot Fernando looks in that suit, I'm not too proud to admit to myself that I really want to sleep with Fernando this evening. But I also already know that I like Fernando too much to let him write me off as a one-night stand. Finally, Fernando speaks. “I guess that would depend on how much he likes her. How much...you know, stuff he likes about her outside of how she looks or....how she is in the sack, or whatever.”

I smile nervously at Fernando, as I'm somewhat afraid to ask the obvious question that has just come to my mind. When I'm this anxious, I always feel like I have to do something with my hands. Normally, that would involve turning my favorite knife around in the air with expert skill for several seconds at a time. However, since Fernando and I are in a public place, and I really don't want to scare my date off tonight, my hands automatically do the first thing that my subconscious mind can think off: I raise up my plate, then use my fork to scrape the remains of my Fettuccine Alfredo, sauce and all, off my plate and onto Fernando's, while I say. “Here, eat this for me. I'm really full.”

Fernando gives me a quizzical look, then shrugs and starts eating my leftovers without another word, even as the heat between my legs starts to become even more intense. At that moment, I can't help but think of a term I recently learned on the internet, which apparently applies to me. 'I am such a 'feeder' whore.'

Before I can get lost down the rabbit hole that particular train of thought would probably lead me down, I slowly turn to Fernando and force out a chuckle, before I finally spit out the question I had been dreading to ask. “So if, hypothetically, and this IS hypothetical....”

I giggle nervously again, causing me to mentally berate myself because 'I'm Acting like a lovesick schoolgirl!' before I can resume talking. Fernando is still absentmindedly eating my pasta, but his eyes never leave my person until I am able to gather up my courage over a minute and finish whispering my thought. “IF you and I slept together tonight....Would you still want to go out with me again after that?”

Fernando drops his fork onto his plate then, and his face is so bright red, and it takes him so long to swallow the last bite of my my leftover pasta, that for a horrifying moment, I'm afraid Fernando is now chocking or having a heart attack. But I quickly exhale a breathe I didn't know I holding in when Fernando finally manages to swallow the last bite of pasta, looks down at the table between us like it's the most interesting thing in the world, then finally manages to stammer out. “Please stop making fun of me. I know you're out of my league, and that you only asked me out to pay me back for catching you when you fell last week, or to spite Jeff and Lester. Probably both. Please don't lead me on with questions like this.”

I shake my head as I look at Fernando while trying to school my features into the most serious, yet sympathetic, face that I can. “None of that is true! I swear to you that I'm being serious right now, Fernando. I asked you out because I like you...a lot. I have for a while now. It just took me some time to admit that to myself because I'm really not good with this...feelings stuff. Let's put it this way, you know I don't generally like talking to people much. Do you think I would have spoken with you this long if I didn't like you?”

Fernando suck in a deep breathe, then exhales and says. “Okay. “ The FAT, bespectacled man looks at me with a strange mixture of skepticism and adoration in his eyes that I find simultaneously humbling and heartbreaking, before he continues speaking. “IF, just for the sake of argument, you aren't making fun of me, and you really like me that much...Do you even have any idea how perfect you are? You are just so smart, and beautiful, and when you want to be, like when we were lip syncing in the car earlier, fun. You're pretty much the only girl...hell, pretty much the only person, outside of my family, who is consistently nice to me. Even my best friend, Skip, gets on my case sometimes because I'm so fat. Yet , somehow, you and I seem to have so much in common already. So to answer your question, if, by some miracle, I could ever get you, pretty much the closest thing to an angel that I've ever seen....”

I almost snort at that, because after all the people I've injured or killed in my line of work, I am certainly no angel. But instead, I just listen, and let Fernando finish his heartfelt speech in a whispered tone. “If I were EVER lucky enough to to get you in my bed, I sure as hell would still want you around the next morning. Hell, if this date were to miraculously go that well, I'd still hang around with you as long as you would let me.”

Almost a minute of silence passes between us then, as Fernando continues looking down at the table in apparent embarrassment after his speech, which was just short of being a confession of love, while I just sit there, stunned at the depth of Fernando's feelings towards my person. I have never had any man talk to me like that in my life, as if I was precious beyond measure. As if I was someone worth loving, and not just because of how I look, or my skills in the bedroom.. By the time Fernando manages to speak again, our dishes have been cleared away, and I realize I have been too lost in thought to even notice Jackie doing this. Fernando sighs. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said all of that. Especially on a first date. I just blew it, didn't I?”

I reach across the table and put my right index finger on Fernando's lips to gently silence him. “You didn't blow anything. Actually, what you just said is probably the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me. And honestly, it just made me want you more. I'm glad you feel that way about me, Fernando. Because like I said, I like you a lot. Enough that I really, sincerely, want you...” I gently rub my leg up Fernando's thigh again. This time, though, I don't stop moving my leg until my foot, ever so gently, touches the FAT man's crotch for a split second, then slowly pull me leg down to the floor. Fernando's face turns bright red, and the man starts to visibly sweat a little (so I make a mental not that Fernando will probably need to shower before we have sex tonight, unless we have sex in the shower ), as I finish my though. “Right now. If you want to. I'm going to call a cab, since I think both of us drank too much wine tonight to drive. I can have the driver take you home, and the two of us can take things slow for awhile, and that will be okay. Or..” I give Fernando an lecherous grin, even as I very blatantly stare at the fat man's big, sexy body, while idly wondering how the buttons on Fernando's shirt and pants haven't popped off yet while I say. “ We can go to my place, have a little fun tonight, and we can start advancing our relationship a little faster.”

For the second time that evening, I curse myself for hinting that I want a long-term relationship with Fernando while we are still on our first date. But apparently, me being this transparent is just what Fernando needed to get his confidence back, because the FAT man finally looks up at me (and I'm pleased that his eyes stare at my breasts for just a second on the way up, since I did not wear a dress that is this tight around my bosom for no reason), and smiles. “Your place, please.”

Jackie comes back to our table a minute later, and, after reminding me and Fernando that our meals our on the house tonight, asks us if we want anything else. Fernando quickly shakes his head. “Sorry, but no more for me, thanks. I'm full.”

I nod in agreement “Me too.”

The owner laughs, but I barely notice him talking, as Fernando and I haven't taken our eyes of each other. “I would think so! You two both enjoyed quite a healthy portion of delicious food tonight! Especially you, sir!”

Fernando looks down in embarrassment at having his gluttony pointed out in such a blatant fashion, but I reach across the table and squeeze Fernando's hand gently again while I smile and say. “What can I say? I like a man with a big appetite.”

Jackie points to Fernando and says. “You sir, are a lucky man.”The owner of the restaurant then points at me and says. “You hold onto this woman.”

Fernando smiles back at me, gulps and says. “I'll do my best.”

After that, I rise out of my chair, almost effortlessly, despite being slightly full from the Fettuccine, but it takes Fernando fifteen seconds of straining his muscles to rise out of the chair. When Fernando finally manages to get on his feet, I immediately notice three things. One, Fernando had completely unbuckled his belt sometime this evening, to accommodate all the food he had been eating. Two, all of the buttons on Fernando's shirt and pants seem near their breaking point, and I can easily see a lot of the FAT man's pale flesh, specifically, on my date's chest and large belly, sticking out out between those overworked buttons. And three, Fernando's member is already at half-mast underneath his pants.

For all three of these reasons, it takes every bit of self-restraint I have not to tackle Fernando to the floor right this moment and have my way with him. But I manage to resist for the moment, even as the restaurant owner assures me that my van will not be towed until I come to reclaim it. Then I raise my eyebrow as Fernando hands Jackie a large tip, despite the owner's objections, and says, “Thanks for the free meal! Everything was great!”

My restraint only last as long as it takes for me and Fernando to get in the back of the cab that arrives to pick us up, and for me to give the driver my address before closing the window between the driver and myself. And then my hands start roaming all over Fernando's body, although my mandibles seem especially attracted to Fernando's swollen belly, while I draw the FAT man into a deep kiss. Apparently, Fernando was unprepared for the sudden ferocity of my affections, because the moment after my lips touch his, and my right hand starts rubbing my date's belly, several things happen at once.

I feel Fernando's belly, which I just now realize that the FAT man had been holding in for some time, start to expand beneath my fingers as Fernando involuntarily relaxes the muscles around his abdomen, and I manage to pull my mouth and hands away in surprise, just before all of my date's buttons pop of his shirt and pants, and his zipper is forced down by his fat belly! Furthermore, in the same moment, Fernando lets out a large burp that smells like pizza, as well as a loud, smelly fart!

Fernando turns bright red again and looks down in shame. “I'm so sorry!”

But I just grin at Fernando and say. “Don't worry about it. We'll get you some new clothes later!” Before I resume making out with Fernando.. I moan a little into the FAT man's mouth as I taste pizza, fettuccine, and something so uniquely Fernando. And I swear, I almost cum right then and there.

Once again, the results of Fernando's gluttony turn me on, and I don't even mind the smell in the back of the cab as I make out with him. At the same time, my right hand goes under what remains of Fernando's shirt, and start roaming all around Fernando's large belly, soft pecs, and glorious back fat, even as my left hand continuously squeezes Fernando's FAT, squishy ass!

I am just glad I thought to bring protection against leaks in my underwear for my first date with Fernando. Just in case I came sometime this evening. Apparently, I needed it.

Fernando is almost as hot and bothered as I am by the time we finally arrive at my apartment, and he is already at full mast. I'm seriously considering servicing Fernando right there in the back of the cab, when the driver says. “We're here. Now pay me and get out!”

I glare at the driver for his rudeness, but I pay the driver anyway, and even give him a large tip, despite his attitude problem, to compensate for the fact that the back of the cab reeks of Fernando's gas. No one can say I never do anything nice for people.

After the cab pulls away, Fernando and I quickly rush inside my apartment, which I am very glad is on the first floor of my complex, and I quickly push Fernando towards my bathroom as soon I've closed and locked my front door. “Strip and get in the shower. Let's be dirty and clean at the same time!”

(Author's note: Beginning of erotic scene)

Fernando quickly takes off his clothes while I do the same, revealing the FAT man is, indeed, very sweaty right now, and badly in need of a shower. I don't mind though. I like shower sex. However, Fernando is clearly more hesitant than I am, even though the way the man keeps staring at my body, especially my ass, tits, and womanhood, indicates that he is very interested in having sex with me. And the man's enlarged, and I do mean large, penis also indicates the sexy, naked FAT man in front of me is ready to get down and dirty in the shower. Nevertheless, Fernando gulps and says. “Shouldn't we wait until after we shower before having sex? I mean, I brought a condom, just in case, but I don't think it works in water...”

The frown on my face morphs into a smile when I realize the source of Fernando's objection to he and I having sex right now. “It's very sweet of you to think to use protection in the heat of the moment like this, Fernando, but I have an implant in my body that keeps me from getting pregnant already. And I haven't had sex with anyone since my last medical screening for STIs said that I'm clean. So, we shouldn't have a problem. Unless you have a S...”

Fernando shakes his head while looking down and blushing. “I'm pretty sure I don't, seeing as I'm a virgin.”

I smile and raise Fernando's head to my eye level with my right hand, and I shudder a little as I feel how soft Fernando's second chin is as my hand touches it. “That's okay. I'll show you exactly what to do.”

 

Fernando turns out to be a very quick study in the ways of lovemaking. After Fernando and I quickly wash each other off, with Fernando paying special attention to my womanhood, ass and boobs to get them “extra clean', while I have a great deal of fun cleaning Fernando's large, soft belly, and all the areas immediately underneath it, I bend over in the shower and give Fernando instructions on how to enter my womanhood from behind. The FAT man succeeds at this task quite admirably.

“Yes, yes, yes! Holy fuck! Oh , yeah, just like that!” Or variations thereof, are the only words that come out of my mouth over the next fifty seconds or so. After less than a minute of the fat man thrusting into me from behind, even as his huge, soft belly, which Fernando has to hold up with his hands during sex, bounces off my back and ass over and over, Fernando cums. In that moment, my world comes undone. I see stars, and even my legs fail me as I lose complete control of my motor functions when a wave of pleasure like I've never known washes over me as I cum over and over again!

“Oh, shit!” I slip on the tile in the shower as my legs involuntarily spasm due to the overload of pleasure I am feeling. Thankfully, Fernando's' big, soft arms save me from falling to my death for the second time in as my many weeks! This is a good thing, because this would be a really embarrassing way to die. I lean against Fernando's body, resting my ass and back against Fernando' large, soft belly, and my head between Fernando's soft, sexy pecs, which look like they could grow into even sexier moobs any day now, for over a minute, before Fernando finally says. “Are you okay/”

I nod emphatically. “Hell yes! That was the best orgasm I've ever had! I'll admit that I was....not quite prepared. Are you sure you were a virgin? You sure seemed like you knew what you were doing just now, and you were a pretty good kisser in the cab!”

I turn my head just in time to watch Fernando blush and shrug. “I read a lot. Can you stand on your own now?!”

I nod, and slowly rise from my present position of leaning against Fernando's soft, FAT (damn, I really love that word now!) body, onto my feet, with Fernando helping me do so with his hands until I smile at him and say. “I'm good now, Fernando. Thanks for saving me from falling to my death...again! You're like my big, sexy bodyguard!”

By the time I've turned the water (which is starting to run cold) off, and turned around to face Fernando, however, I notice that Fernando is frowning. I shrug. “Look, Fernando, the shower sex was fun and all, but...”

Fernando sighs. “I know, you want me to leave. I almost killed you just now...”

I shake my head. “Hell, no! It's my fault I didn't have my feet planted firmly enough in the shower. And after an impressive performance like that, I don't want you to go anywhere except to my bedroom, with me. I'll let you be on top, so we don't have to worry about any more mind blowing orgasms knocking me off my feet. Okay?”

Fernando smiles and nods, and he looks pretty pleased with himself, almost smug, as the two of us both dry ourselves off. I then lead Fernando by the hand towards my bedroom and I smirk at the man I've just decided is my boyfriend. “So, Fernando. You've got a great kissing and shower sex game. How's your foreplay?”

Fernando's foreplay turns out to be amazing. The man kisses and caresses every inch of my body making me feel like both a priceless work of art, and the sexiest porn star on Earth. At the same time. Then Fernando starts to gently insert three of his fingers into me, one at a time, before he expertly thrust them into my womanhood over and over again, until I'm moaning and seeing stars again, and Fernando has to get off me because my hips keep pushing my body up and forward of their own accord.

Once my hips have stopped moving, Fernando starts to move his head down towards my sex, but I stop his head with my hands and shake my head. “Na uh. Let me do half the work now. I trust you know what 69'ing means?”

Fernando nods, then tries to put his head on the pillow beside me as I shake my head again and laugh. “What did I say before? I don't want my legs to give out while we're making love again. I want you on top.”

Fernando frowns.”Um, Greta? You may have noticed that I'm really fat...”

I roll my eyes at that statement “I'm not blind, Fernando. I know you're a big man. If that bothered me, do you think I would have asked you out in the first place?”

Fernando shrugs and blushes. “I guess not. It's just that, since I'm so much heavier than you, I'm afraid I'll...”

“Crush me?” I grin at Fernando. “ Don't worry, I may look like a twig to you, but I work out a lot, so I have a lot of lean muscle. I'm strong enough to withstand you being on top of me.”

Fernando shrugs, then silently climbs on top of me. I have to admit, Fernando is even heavier than I imagined, and I have to struggle to breath a little as gravity pushes the FAT man against my body. Somehow, having all that soft, comfortable flab practically surrounding my body and pining me down to my bed is an incredible experience. It's almost akin to getting a nice, warm hug, except all over my body. Therefore, despite the pressure Fernando's body is exerting on mine, I already know that asking Fernando to get on top of me was a good decision as I smile at the man and say. “See? I'm fine. Now let's get started!”

I quickly learn that the '69 position was a bad idea tonight, however. But not for any lack of talent on Fernando's part. The things that man does to me with his mouth and tongue, combined with the way that FAT sexy body of his, especially Fernando's big, beautiful belly, keeps bouncing around on top of me, all conspire to turn me on beyond belief. So I have a hard time focusing on Fernando's large member in my mouth as I moan in orgasmic bliss over and over again over the next several minutes. My concentration is so off, in fact, that I only notice that Fernando is about to cum when he warns me about it. “Greta! I need to get off you! I'm gonna blow!:”

But I hold on fast to Fernando with my arms, making his body stay down long enough that he is forced to cum in my mouth. I deep throat Fernando's large dick like the pro I am, licking off every bit of Fernando's seed before I let go of the FAT man, letting him climb off me. I lick my lips then, to swallow the last of my new boyfriend's cum. It's much saltier than that of every other man I've been with. I suspect the reason Fernando's cum taste vaguely like french fries has something to do with all of the salt and grease in my new man's diet. I quickly decide that I like this difference, and I make a show out of licking my lips again to demonstrate this. “Yum! You taste good, Fernando!”

Fernando's face turns turns bright red, and only now do I notice that my new boyfriend is sweating like a pig all over his body. “Thanks, so do you!” Fernando starts breathing a little hard then. “Maybe I should start exercising and build up some muscle, like you, because I'm already a little winded!”

I frown as Fernando's lack of self-confidence rears it's ugly head. “ That's okay, I'm a little winded from all that fantastic sex myself! And sure, you could start working out, if you want. But you know...” I click the nails on my right hand together nervously a couple of times. “ Exercise isn't for everyone, Fernando. You don't have to work out, just because I enjoy doing so.” This last statement is a lie. I don't particularly enjoy exercising, and I don't particularly hate it. It's just something I have to do to keep in fighting shape for my real job as a CIA agent. A job that I desperately need to keep if I ever want to...

But Fernando's next words cut off that thought. “Yeah, I know. It's just that...You obviously like me, since you just let me have sex with you....”

“Several times.” I reassure Fernando with a smile. “And they were all fantastic!”

Fernando's face starts to resemble a tomato as he stutters out. “Th...Thanks. But If I started working out, maybe I wouldn't work up so much of a sweat, and stink so much, after having sex...”

“May I?” I interrupt Fernando while gently lifting up one of his arms. Fernando raises his eyebrow, but doesn't object as I take a faint whiff of his armpit, then shrug. “Yeah..you do stink a little bit...”

Fernando looks down in shame before I quickly smile and lift his head up with my right hand. “But it's a good stink. The smell of a real man who has just bedded his woman really, spectacularly well! I kind of like it.”

Fernando smiles, but his eyes, and voice, are doubtful. “Really?”

“Really.” I point to my own sweaty face. “And see? I'm sweating too.”

Fernando eyes light up as he smiles this time. “That's different. Women don't sweat. They glisten.”

I roll my eyes at that. “Well, I'm 'glistening' all over after making out with you in the cab. Then that fantastic sex in the shower and amazing foreplay....”

Fernando chuckles. “I get it. Your and I seem to be pretty good at this..”

I smile, then pull Fernando into a long, sensual kiss. I smile after I pull away from the kiss, then say. “You're the best I've ever had. By far. And I like you just the way you are.”

Fernando blushes again then. But even though Fernando's blushing is one of the cutest things I've ever seen, that now-familiar heat pulling in between my legs helps me decide I have no time for my new boyfriend's bashfulness, and I whisper in Fernando's ear. “That's enough rest. Get on top of me again. I need you inside me!”

Fernando nods his head, but pulls me into another kiss then. I instinctively go along with this, even though I'm a little miffed at the FAT man for not giving me what I want immediately, but Fernando pulls away from the osculation before I can object, then starts kissing his way down my chin, then my neck, nibbling my neck a little as he does so. Finally, the man's mouth reaches my breasts, and the man holds both of my boobs in his hands, then moves both of his thumbs around my breasts in a spiral-motion, causing me to moan as his digits slowly work their way towards my erect nipples. Then just before Fernando's thumbs reach my nipples...he stops.

As I let out a low whine of discontentment, Fernando gently lowers my body down onto the bed while smiling. “I just wanted to get you warmed up for the main event!”

I glare at Fernando. “Why you little...” But before I can object, Fernando's already hard cock (which I didn't even notice was growing as he played with my boobs, but I certainly notice this now) slowly enters me, as Fernando puts his entire body weight on top of my hips, then looks down at me with both concern and rapture in his eyes. “Is this still okay? I'm not too heavy now that...”

“No, you're fine...” I manage to pant out, as annoyance, arousal, and a warm feeling in my chest that comes from Fernando's consistent concern for my well being all war for my attention in my head and heart. “This feels...so good...but can you please...give me boobs some more attention?”

Fernando smiles as he says, “as you wish,” then lowers his body down and forwards, putting his warm, soft,, pleasantly sweaty body down on top of me. For a moment my thoughts are chaotic, torn between enjoying the dual sensations of Fernando thrusting into me again and again and the man's FAT, sexy body jiggling and sweating all over me, wondering why I'm a freak who, apparently, is turned on by flatulence, sweat, gluttony, and FAT, and thinking.'Did Fernando seriously just use a 'Princess Bride' line on me?! That used to be my favorite movie !' But soon Fernando's mouth sucking on my left breast joins the thrusting, and the jiggling, and the sweating. And then, on top of everything else...

POOT! URP!

Fernando burps and farts at the same time! And as the sounds coming from Fernando's mouth and ass reach my ears, and a familiar stink that I am learning to love reaches my nose, on top of the other pleasurable experiences I am having at the same moment, my senses are completely overwhelmed, and I think Fernando is trying to apologize for something but his voice just seems so far away right now.

And then my mind is gone. If I were a cyborg, I would be seeing an impossible '2' in my code.

Time and thought fall away, and all I am is pleasure, and moaning, and back arching, and toes curling, and absolute and total adoration for the man who is making me feel SO DAMN GOOD! If this isn't the greatest moment of my life, it's by far the most pleasurable. In fact, there is only one thing bad about this moment...

( Author's note: end of erotic scene)

It eventually has to end.

But that isn't so bad, because when my mind and senses start working normally again, I am somehow in Fernando's arms instead of underneath him. As Fernando looks at me with warmth and concern is his eyes, even as he holds my thin, muscular body against his FAT, flabby one, he squints at me (only now, do I realize that Fernando's glasses are still on my bathroom floor next to his ruined clothes, and that Fernando looks much better without them, because now, I can see his wonderful eyes) and says. “Are you okay now, Greta?! I think I lost you for a minute there.”

I grin so widely at Fernando that I probably look absolutely dopey right now, but I don't care, as I say. “Sorry, I think I was too busy being on cloud nine, Fernando! Where you there with me?!”

Fernando just smiles and nods, looking oh so pleased with himself. And I don't even mind the smug look on Fernando's face right now if this experience helps raise his self-esteem bye even the smallest bit. Fernando deserves to know how wonderful he is. So I decide to tell him. “That was absolutely incredible! You are incredible!”

Fernando blushes. “Funny, I was just about to say the same thing about you! Thank you for letting me make lo...sleep with you!”

I chuckle then. “I think that's my line!”

Fernando frowns. “But seriously, I'm so sorry about belching and passing gas at the end.”

But I shake my head and give Fernando a quick kiss. “Don't even worry about it. You were great, and I'm looking forward to having sex with you many more times in the future, Fernando!”

I yawn loudly then. “But not tonight. I'm tired, and I need to sleep, because I have to work out in the morning before going to work.”

I look at Fernando with pleading eyes. I know it makes me look desperate, but I don't care at the moment. “Stay here tonight.”

As soon as I say the words, I realize how ridiculous they are. After all, where is Fernando going to go with a ruined shirt and pants, no mode of transportation, and no money (because I'm pretty sure he spent all he has on him with that tip tonight) to call a cab? But Fernando doesn't call me on the pointlessness of my plea, or make fun of me in any way, before the FAT man gives me a quick kiss and says. “Of course.”

After I pull the covers over our naked bodies, Fernando lays down flat on his back, and puts his left arm across my back. I put my head on his chest and my right arm over his belly. To his credit, Fernando only looks down self-consciously at his large gut for a couple of seconds before he sighs happily, then closes his eyes and smiles. I spend a minute admiring how beautiful and peaceful Fernando's face looks right now, before I close my own eyes and breathe in a scent that is a mixture of sweat, and something that is just Fernando.

For one moment, I'm completely at peace. In Fernando's squishy, comfortable arms. I am satisfied, happy, and warm as I snuggle my new boyfriend's body life the enormously comfortable pillow that it is. And surprisingly, in this moment, I feel completely safe in the arms of this FAT, physically unfit, but extremely comfortable, Buy More employee. A feeling of safety I have never felt after sleeping with muscular secret agents in the past. I choose not to over analyze this, though, as I start drifting to sleep, while I idly think 'Nothing could possibly ruin this perfect ending to this perfect day.'

Then Fernando speaks, and my mind instantly wakes up as my eyes widen. “It's funny. This is our first date, and I don't event know your real name. But I'm in love with you.” The FAT man then immediately becomes still, and he starts snoring a few seconds later.

The woman in me is jumping for joy at Fernando's declaration of love. But the agent in me is setting off a thousand silent alarms in my brain, and coming up with as many reasons why everything Fernando just said could mean major trouble for me in the near future, not the least of which is Fernando's declaration that he knows “Greta” isn't my real name. But nothing in Fernando's words bring about as much simultaneous fear and joy as my immediate emotional response to what my new boyfriend just said..

 

I have a real name, and that fact seems pretty damn important right now. But most people call me Greta. I just realized that I'm in love with Fernando Hernandez. And that thought absolutely terrifies me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter, things will get interesting. Real interesting...
> 
> If you've made it this far, you've now read two chapters of a fanfic of a show which was canceled years ago, based around two minor characters. So basically what I'm saying is, thanks for sticking around this long, readers! And remember, feedback is most appreciated! Until next time, just remember...
> 
> Some Like it Fat


	3. Greta Versus the Big Mistake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which mistakes are made by both Greta and Fernando.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter will be a little bit on the angsty side. But I made sure that the beginning of this chapter would be significantly happier than the rest of this story update. Also, 
> 
>  
> 
> SPOILER ALERT!
> 
> The next chapter will have a happier tone.
> 
> Contains another skippable sex scene, marked by parenthesis.

Greta's POV:

I yawn, then smile as I open my eyes to one perfect day in a long line of perfect days. With great effort, after several attempts, I am finally able to sit up, although I end up sweaty, and gasping for air as I do so.. Once I have gotten my breath back, however, I lift my fat arm, admiring my plump, sausage like fingers, and drooping arms fat, which hangs almost a foot below my fully extended arm, then slap Fernando's fat ass, which has two butt cheeks the size of fully expanded air bags. “Wake up, fat ass!”

Fernando groans as he wakes up, pulling the remaining covers off our super-sized bed, in the master bedroom of our mansion, as he does so. I catch a quick glimpse at all six of my husband's large deposits of back fat as the fat man rises up into a sitting position, panting with exertion as he does so. However, the fat man isn't quite as sweaty as I am when he finishes sitting up, and he is able to resume breathing normally faster than I was. Fernando turns around then, allowing me to see his plump cheeks and three chins, as well as the man's tree-trunk sized, flabby arms, which are absolutely covered in stretch-marks, his huge quadruple belly, which almost covers most of his massive, albeit useless, legs, aside from his plump feet and sausage-like toes, and even the fat man's massive moobs, which drift halfway down to his belly button. I openly lick my lips out of lust at the sight of the ridiculously sexy, ludicrously fat, immobile man in front of me. I then remind myself to have “sex” with my husband later, using the custom made toys that were commissioned so that me and Fernando could still get each other off, even though we're too fat to reach each other “down there.”

Fernando breaks me out of this pleasant line of thought as he frown at me and says. “Did you have to wake me up like that so early in the day? And what's with this 'fat ass' business?! You're fatter than I am!”

I smile at Fernando then, a gesture which I know shows off my flabby face and quadruple chin quite well, even as I use my flabby arm to point to the clock on our bedside table. “It's one in the afternoon, Fernando! We must have slept in after eating that turkey feast for twelve by ourselves. I guess turkey really does make you sleepy! Anyway, I'm well aware that I'm fatter that you,husband....” I shake my quintuple belly to emphasize my point, causing my four chins, my enormous tits (which reach all the way down to my cavernous belly button), my eight rolls of back fat, my gigantic ass, which has two cheeks the size of small boulders, and a crack so massive that it requires constant cleaning, since stuff keeps ending up inside it, to shake and wobble as well. Even my couch-size, vestigial legs and plump feet and toes jiggle, although everything in front of and below my waist can't be seen, since it is covered by all of my fat bellies. I then smile as I continue voicing my thought. “But that doesn't change the fact that you are such a fat ass that you can't walk a single step! It's just that I'm an even bigger immobile piggy than you are. I'm a fatter ass! But we are both so fucking fat!”

Fernando laughs, allowing me a great view of his gorgeous eyes, plump face, and three chins. “Yes, that we are! And I suppose this is the part were you remind me that is all my fault!”

I smirk, showing off my own fat face as I do so, “It's totally your fault! First, you convince me to quite the CIA, then you suck me into your laid back lifestyle of constant eating and no exercise! And then, you go and win the lottery, invest the money so well we become billionaires almost overnight, enabling us to never work again and just sit on our fat asses, eating whatever we want, all day long!”

Fernando shrugged, causing his bellies, moobs and flabby limbs to shake in tandem as he replied with a smirk. “Guilty! But I never made you eat even more than me!”

I laugh at that, causing my fat body to shake as I do so. “True! But after years of limiting my calorie intake, I was so fucking hungry! You know I NEEDED to eat my fill everyday after I retired, Fernando! So I did!” I shake my belly again, causing all of my flesh and fat to jiggle uncontrollably, a sight which I know is driving Fernando mad with lust.

Fernando nods. “I know! I don't blame you for getting even fatter than me! I love every inch of you! But...do you ever regret that we both ate so much we became immobile?”

I smile at my enormously fat husband. “Of course not! I love our fat and happy life, don't you?!”

Fernando beams back at me. “Hell, yes!” A few minutes later, our servants, who are trained not to make our food, or come into our room, until my husband and I wake up on our own, and to adhere to our schedule, come into to feed us our first breakfast of the day. Later on, Fernando and I will eat second breakfast, than lunch, then a mid afternoon snack, then second lunch (which always has sub sandwiches, my favorite, as the main course), then dinner (which always includes pizza, Fernando's favorite), then supper, than first dessert (which alternates between my favorite, cheesecake, and Fernando's, brownies). And my husband and I always top off the evening with a second, more intimate, dessert, for which we tell our very well paid personal chefs to “surprise us” with a sweet treat of the chefs own choosing. Mixing food and sex is very messy, but totally worth it!

The smells of pancakes, chicken, waffles, crepes, french toast, hash browns, omelets, sausages, sides of bacon and fresh ham all hit my nose at the same time, causing my mouth to water as Fernando and I both lick our lips while our stomach rumble. My husband and I haven't eaten in over eight hours, and we are starving! So of course, when our massive trays of food are put in front of us, one by one, Fernando and I dig in quickly, using the cutlery provided us to eat speck of food on our plates! Meats, breads, eggs, all covered in butter, syrup, grease, and salt, my fat husband and I stuff all of them into our mouths at a breakneck pace, causing crumbs, grease, butter, and syrup to fall onto our chins breasts and bellies as we eat in haste, in order to fill our hungry stomachs! Despite our messy eating, however, not a drop of food on any plate gets spared, as Fernando and I lick each greasy, buttery, syrup coated plate clean.

Finally, after Fernando and I both finish off the last morsels of our second breakfast, my husband and I burp and fart at the same time, then smile at each other. After the last plate is put away, it's time for bath time! Of course, my husband and I can't fit in an actual bath, and even if we could, we haven't been able to leave the super-sized, custom made bed we share in years. But that's not a problem because mine and Fernando's trusted servants take care of all our hygienic needs. Almost all of them, anyway. Fernando and I are given wet, soapy sponges first, since we always reserve the pleasure of cleaning each others breasts, and as much as each others bellies as we can reach, to each other. Fernando and I do so with great enthusiasm, shamelessly feeling up each others soapy tits, bellies, and love handles as we do so. When we are done drying these parts of each others bodies of with towels, some of the servants get to work on washing and drying the rest of mine and Fernando's bodies, not worrying about getting the bed wet or soapy, since mine and Fernando's “smart bed” cleans itself regularly, depositing materials such as food crumbs, soap, water, and bodily emission of all kinds, into the appropriate , trash, sewage or filtration systems, all by itself. However, another servant is given a different task when I point to him. “You there! Put a holocube into the video player! My husband and I want to be entertained while we are bathed!”

The servant nods, then asks. “Which cube?”

But Fernando answers for me. “Star Wars Episode Fifteen: The Force Never Sleeps. If that's okay with you, wife.”

I nod, causing all of my chins to wobble, as well as the rest of me, so all the servants have to readjust their positions to keep cleaning my massive body. I then smile at Fernando as he and I hold hands as the movie starts, even as I whisper. “Aw, how sweet! You know that's my favorite Star Wars movie!” Truth be told, I know that the Star Wars franchise went downhill after it's third trilogy, and that episode fifteen is far from the the best Star Wars film (although its still far better than the prequel trilogy). Even so, despite it's many faults, one particular subplot makes episode fifteen my favorite. This is the film where the female protagonist of the fifth trilogy, Ryana Skywalker surprised everyone by picking her fat, bronze skinned alien companion (who was part Hutt) Habba, who had been her loyal friend since before the beginning of Episode thirteen, to be her romantic companion at the end of the film. She had picked the alien over the human, Daxen Starhunter, the rogue, flirty Han Solo wannabe she had met in the middle of Episode fourteen . I remember that the resolution of this love triangle had surprised audience members and critics alike when the film had first come out, but in my opinion,it was the perfect ending to the fifth trilogy. In the end, Habba's selflessness ( he had jumped in front of a blaster bolt meant for Ryana in Episode Thirteen), loyalty ( Zarg, the leader of the new Sith Empire, couldn't use his “Force Brainwash” ability to make Habba kill Ryana in episode fourteen) and love (for Ryana found a holo picture that she had given him when they were both teenagers, still in Habba's possession years later, and Habba had confessed he had loved Ryana since they were both children), were finally recognized by Ryana. The last Skywalker had seen these traits in Habba as being more important than the charming ways of Daxen, the slightly selfish womanizer of the fifth trilogy. But the very end of the film, which Fernando and I continue to watch long after our bath is done, and the servants have left the room, is my favorite part “ No way! You're perfect, Habba!” Ryana told Habba at the end of the fifth trilogy, right after the New Sith Empire had been defeated, the last Skywalker and her best friend turned lover had been married on Coruscant, and Habba had asked if his new wife regretted picking him over Daxen,. “ Besides, I always thought Daxen was too scrawny!”

After the film ends, Fernando and I smile and make eyes at each other, and I can tell both of us are thinking about the parallels between Ryana and Habba's, and me and Fernando. Most of the guys I had dated when I was skinny, before I met Fernando, had been more like Daxen: arrogant, muscular, physically strong, conventionally attractive. Fernando was more like Habba. Humble, fat, unfit, not too great with the ladies, but very loyal, sweet, and loving. I had followed my heart, taken a chance on Fernando, and I haven't regretted it since. And I really want to make love to my husband now!

Fernando must be thinking the same thing, because he calls out to our servants (who are never far away), to “Bring my wife and I our intimacy enhancement devices!” I smile wide at Fernando then. I love it that my husband has learned to read me well enough to know when I want sex as bad as he does.

(beginning of erotic scene)

The servants quickly rush in,lift mine and my husband's bellies up, and attack several high tech devices to mine and Fernando's genitalia, touching our private parts themselves as little as possible while doing so. The servants then hand me and Fernando remote controls to each others devices, then discretely leave the room. I press a button on my controller while rubbing Fernando's bellies, even as my husband moans as the skin to skin contact occurs simultaneously with the gentle pressure his device is now exerting on his balls and penis. Fernando then grins and squeezes one of my huge breasts with one hand, pressing a button on my device's controller as he does so.

I orgasm, fart, and burp instantly, but I glare at Fernando after I'm done moaning with pleasure. “Fuck! Why did you have to use the third highest setting on the device while squeezing one of my tits?! You know how sensitive my nipples are, and that I would cum really fast!”

Fernando blushes, the says. “Sorry. I just wanted to bring you pleasure as fast as possible! You are so sexy and beautiful when you cum!”

I smile back at Fernando. “Flattery will get you everywhere, dear husband. But let's make the rest of our intimate time last longer, okay?”

Fernando nods, and the two of us start making out, first with lips, then with tongues, and always, always, with all our fat hearts. Then, only after Fernando and I have been fondling each others huge tits, bellies, and asses for several minutes, do we press each others buttons...On the highest sitting.

Once again, my mind is gone, and making love to Fernando is just as good, no, better, than the first time as Fernando and I belch,fart, curl our toes, and helplessly moan simultaneously! But the orgasms just keep on coming in waves as I scream. “Shit! Fuck! Even fat as fuck, you are amazing in bed, Fernando! Yeah, just like that!”

I scream Fernando's name over and over again as both of our fat bodies shake and sweat uncontrollably as we rub each others bellies while coming repeatedly. I am in heaven until I realize that Fernando is calling out “Greta!” over and over. I frown, even as my orgasms stop for some reason, as I think to myself, 'Why would Fernando call me Greta?! I told him my real name ages ago, and I haven't gone by my CIA code-name for over a decade!'

Before I can ask my husband why he is calling me Greta, my vision becomes blurry, and then the world goes, black. And it is only then, that I sadly realize what is happening, and...

(end of erotic scene)

I open my eyes and wake up from my wonderful dream. I'm in the bed in my apartment again, looking down at my pillow and I can tell by the sunlight in the room that it is the morning after my first date with Fernando. I can't help but frown as I realize my beautiful dream, of a fat and fabulous life with Fernando, was all in my head. At first, I can't reconcile this fact with the decade plus of joyful memories I have in my brain of a happy life with the fat man I love. However, my confusion starts to abate as I quickly forget almost everything about this “dream life” with Fernando, until only the last, magical morning of that “life” of happiness, fat, and immobility with the man I love remains. I want to cry in that moment, until a gentle voice in my head reminds me that, for the first time in a long time, I didn't wake up alone this morning. “Greta! Are you okay?! You keep rubbing my belly and moaning in your sleep! Are you having a nightmare!”

I smile sadly as I look towards the naked fat man lying down next to me on my bed. He isn't nearly as fat as he was in my dream, but he's still damn sexy, and the love in the man's eyes for my person fills me with love, awe, and heartbreak. After I finish scoping out Fernando's body, a process which makes Fernando's face turn the shade of a tomato, I say. “No, Fernando! I was actually having a really good dream!”

Fernando nods and says. “Oh. Well...good then!”

I get out of bed at that moment, looking away from Fernando. I use of every bit of my willpower to keep from crying at the prospect of what I have to do to the man that I realized, just last night, that I love with all my heart.

I have a real name, but I realized after last night, that I can never tell the man I love what it is. Not if I want to keep him safe. Most people call me Greta. And in order to save the man I love, “Greta” is going to have to be a total bitch to Fernando now.”

“So,” Fernando starts to speak, and it takes every bit of my agency training to keep a stoic look on my face when I turn around and see the love and hopefulness in the man's eyes as he continues. “How long do you have before you have to go to work? I was thinking that I could make you some breakfast, give you a a back massage before work, or....”

“Actually,” I saw with the most neutral voice I can manage. “I have to get ready for work now if I want to go on my run before clocking in. I've got to burn off my calories from last night's dinner, you know? I don't want to get fat!”

I hate myself for causing the hurt look that is in Fernando's eyes right now, but I remind myself that this is for Fernando's own good. After last night, it is obvious to me that Fernando knows I'm not really Greta, Buy More employee. That I'm really someone, something, more. And if Fernando finds out who I really am, who I really work for, while dating me, the CIA's enemies , or even the agency itself, may torture, then kill, the man I love for information. And I will not let that happen.

Or at least, those are the reasons I tell myself I am trying to make Fernando hate, and stop paying attention to, me. I tell myself that I'm not doing this because I'm afraid of my feelings for Fernando. Afraid of being with, and possibly losing, someone who loves me so much. And I'm definitely not hurting Fernando because I'm afraid, after my dream this morning, that I will be tempted to leave the Agency for a fat, happy life with the man I love. I mean, even if I did accomplish my personal mission someday, then left the CIA, I would never want to get fat!

Would I?

Fernando's words rip me way from my melancholy thoughts, and I can't believe that Fernando is still pursuing me after the comment about not wanting to get fat, which I intentionally used to hurt him. But the fat man is apparently, quite stubborn, and the next words out of the sexy fat man's mouth are; “Right. Of course, Just because you like bigger men, doesn't mean you want to get big yourself. That makes sense, I guess. Especially considering...anyway, how about I take you out for a late lunch or dinner later tonight? I can't pay for a five star restaurant, but that sandwich place I know you like is just across the street from the Buy More! Maybe we could walk there together after your shift is done, and I can buy you a black forest ham sub! I know that's your favorite, because I see you eating those in the break room all the time!”

I sigh then, as I think to myself. 'Fernando really loves you. You're going to have to be a lot less subtle, and a lot more bitchy, if you want to make him leave you alone. So, after hesitating for several seconds, I force an eye roll and say. “Can't you take a hint?! Last night was a one time deal, Fernando! I only went out with you because you saved me from plummeting to my death once, and because I felt sorry for you because people are always making fun of you for being fat! It was a pity date, but it was nice. Don't ruin that.”

Fernando shakes his head. But alongside the doubt in his eyes, I also see his self-esteem plummeting, and the woman in me is telling me to 'Take it back now! Tell Fernando you love him, and that you really do want to see him again!'

But the agent in me knows that 'Fernando wouldn't last five minutes in a torture chamber, and he's too flabby and unfit to defend himself! The only way you can protect him is by cutting ties with the man now! Everyone you love dies anyway! So if you love Fernando, you'll let him go before he's added to the pile of corpses!'

Fernando's own words make me doubt my course of action, however, when he says. “I don't believe that. You said...you promised , that you really liked me the way I was! That I was the best lover you've ever had! And you wouldn't sleep with me until I told you that I...that I cared about you. Is that what this is about? I vaguely remember saying something about loving you before I fell asleep last night, but it's okay if you don't feel the same way about me yet....”

'But I do feel the same way about you! That's the problem! I'm only doing this because I love you too much to let you get hurt on my account!' Are the words I want to say to Fernando. But what comes out of my mouth after I brush my teeth, as I get dressed for my run, put my hair up in a bun, then pack my sports bag with everything I might need later today, is. “There's a simple explanation for all of that. I lied. I wanted you to enjoy last night, to pay you back for saving my life last week, like I said before, so I told you what you wanted to hear!”

Fernando shakes his head again, and the way his two chins wobble a little is so cute, but the unshed tears in Fernando's eyes offset that as my heart breaks for the fat man in front of me, and the woman in me is mentally cursing me out for 'Being such a bitch to Fernando.', even as the object of my obsession shakes his head and says. “I don't believe you! Not after the way you kissed me last night, or the way you looked and sounded when we made love! I don't know why you're lying to me now, Greta, but I know you are!”

I hate myself so much as I reply in a smug tone of voice. “Please, I'm a woman! I know how to fake an orgasm!” I put on my best fake look of arousal on my face, which I have had to use with every person I've ever had sex with...except Fernando. “Do you want to hear what it sounds like when....”

Fernando is crying now, making me feel like, if there is a hell, and nothing else I've done would land me there, hurting the man I love like this will push me into that fiery abyss when I die, even as Fernando shakes his head. “No thanks. I've already seen “When Harry Met Sally'. But I still don't believe you...”

A small part of me is glad Fernando has seen that film, which is a favorite for both me and Sarah, but a much larger part of me is screaming inside. 'Why?! Why won't you let me push you away, Fernando?! Why do you keep making me hurt you before you get the message?!' And my insides are tied into knots as the self-loathing I spent years burying in therapy as a teenager reasserts itself. In that moment, I want many things at once, and some of them contradict each other. I want to throw up. I want to run out of my apartment. I want to kiss Fernando, and tell him that I love him, and that I'm sorry for lying to him, and trying to push him away. I want to keep Fernando as far away from the 'real me' as I can to keep him safe.

I want, and I want, and I want. Everything I want is wrong. And whatever choice I make now will be wrong too. In this moment, I cant help but think that I'm making the second biggest mistake of my life right now. But my decade long effort to atone, at least partially, for the biggest mistake of my life, even bigger than this one, the reason I can't quite the CIA, is the reason that I give Fernando a cool look now, and speak in a teasing tone. “So what do you believe then? That a fit, beautiful woman like me, fell in a love with a fat slob like you? Grow up, Fernando!”

I turn to leave my apartment at that moment, because I can't stop the tears from forming in my eyes now, and I can't let Fernando see how much its hurting me to hurt him, or I'll give everything away. But I somehow manage to keep my voice steady as put a hundred dollar bill on a nearby table and say. “Here, use this to get a cab drive home, some new clothes, and something to eat. I don't have much food in my apartment, and I don't want you telling your so-called friends at the Buy-More that I'm a bad host!”

I run out of the apartment then, sports bag in hand, because I can't stand to hear Fernando sobbing for one more moment, and my vision gets blurry with tears as I hear Fernando screaming as I shut my front door behind me, “I don't believe you!” But the fat man's words just make me run faster.

I almost get run over by a car, just before I manage to dry the tears from my eyes, after I run out onto the road in front of my apartment complex. But I don't care about this. Just like I don't care that there's a bunch of valuable items in my apartment that could get stolen if Fernando forgets to lock the door behind him when he leaves my dwelling (for I know Fernando himself is too good a person to steal from even his worst enemy). I know it would serve me right to get killed by a speeding car right now. Or to be robbed blind. Because I'm not a good person, and everyone I love gets killed. I've known this since I was fourteen.

That's why, even though a voice inside of me is screaming at me to 'Call Fernando! Apologize to him! Tell him you love him! Do something to make the man you love feel better, you stupid bitch!' I don't call Fernando. I just keep running. Because a picture in a hidden pocket of my wallet, which is in my sports bag, is always there to remind me that I bring ruin to everyone I love. The family portrait of a grinning, middle-aged fat couple, a smiling, chubby little girl, and a frowning, skinny hazel-eyed brunette teenager is always there to remind me why I can't lose sight of my personal mission, or let anything distract me from the reason I signed on with the CIA in the first place. That picture of three happy people, and one bitchy, ungrateful brat, who didn't appreciate her family until they were gone, reminds me why I don't deserve to be happy, and I don't deserve to be loved.

For a time, I had let my friendship with Sarah, and my love for Fernando, make me forget that lesson. Never again.

But despite my determination to stay away from Fernando from now on, after my three hour run, I stop to pick up my van from the parking lot of the Italian restaurant the fat man and I went to last night, and in the back of my mind, a part of me that I don't want to acknowledge right now reminds me. 'This is the only vehicle you own that Fernando will fit in! You can't let it be towed away!'

After parking the van in the Buy More parking lot, I use a secret entrance to one of the classified areas of the store, then take a long shower in one of the agency shower stalls, using government issue soap and shampoo to clean my skinny, sweaty body to get ready for my mission briefing for the day. Unlike exercise, which I'm indifferent about, I really enjoy taking showers. But today, I suffer through a long shower that doesn't make me feel the least bit better. I still feel like crap after what I said to Fernando this morning. After the water in the shower has gotten cold, I slump down against a the back shower wall, all the way to the floor, not caring how unsanitary that is. Because at least over the sound of running water, none of my fellow agents in the locker room can hear “Greta”, the CIA's top knife expert, expert mark woman, and all around bad ass, cry her eyes out.

…..Fernando's POV: A little over three hours ago...

'This can't be happening!' I tell myself right after “Greta” runs out of her apartment, even as I look down at my cellphone, which Greta let me charge in one of her spare chargers overnight, and note that I'll need to get home soon, so I can give my mom one of her medications for her rare brain disease. But even as I gather my ruing clothes and things together from Greta's bathroom, my eyes continue crying as a smaller, meaner part of me insist that. 'Of course this is happening, fat boy! What?! Did you really think that a girl that beautiful l had fallen in love with a disgusting blob like you!? It was just a pity date, that's all! And it's the best a fat ass like you, who has no control over his appetite, is ever going to get! It's all down hill from her, tubby!”

I barely manage to dry my tears long enough to get my ruined clothes back on my body as best I can, and call a cab. Then, out of desperation to get home to my mom on time, I take the $100 that Greta left me on a table, but I feel like a prostitute as I take the money anyway, while walking out her front door. After locking it, of course. I feel so used. And right then, I know that whoever first said that “It's better to have loved, then lost, then to never have loved at all” was a damn liar.

However, even when the cab arrives, a stupid, optimistic part of me believes...knows, that Greta was lying to me when she said last night had all been fake, and she didn't care about me. That she must have been trying to distance herself from me to protect me somehow. 'Maybe this has something to do with her real job!' I think to myself.

But the more logical, pragmatic (or maybe it's pessimistic?) part of me keeps telling me that. 'What's her name, who you know very well is not named Greta, played you for a sucker, Fernando! After all, no woman could really fall in love with a fat ass like you! The sooner you accept that, the happier you'll be!'

I'm not happy, though, even after I convince myself (or 90% convince myself, while the other 10% stubbornly clings to the hope that this morning was all a big misunderstanding somehow, and that the “Greta” I know would never hurt me, unless she had a good reason) that Greta has played me. When I arrive at my mom's house, the cab driver gives me hell for having to make change for a c-note, but instead of apologizing, as I normally would under these kinds of circumstances, I'm too angry and depressed to do anything but roll my eyes and say, “Whatever.” after I take my change. I feel so bad about this afterwards, that I instantly use my phone to go online and give the cab drive a better Yelp review then he really deserved.

After sneaking inside the house, I quickly shower, change into new underwear and socks, and my usual lounge clothes, my favorite Star Wars t-shirt and sweatpants, then go into my mom's room, and wake her up to administer her medication. I then help my mother, a 400 pound woman who had more gray hairs than a woman her age should, get to the bathroom, and after she is done with her business, back to her bed, because she is always a little weak in the mornings, and needs the extra help.

My mother, who looks even more tired than usual this morning, notices that I'm not happy, and frowns as she asks. “Fernando, you look unhappy! Is something wrong? Did your date with that Greta girl not go well?”

I force a smile and lie through my teeth. “No, mom. I'm fine. The date went fine. Everything is great.”

My mom, shakes her head, and I can't tell by the look in her blue eyes if she believes me, but she nods as if she does. “Good. Maybe you can go out with that girl again sometime this week. “

My mother suddenly smiles then, and says. “I notice that you came in late this morning, Fernando. You weren't here when I woke up at 3AM. Are you tired because this 'Greta' wore you out last night?!”

I'm sure I'm blushing right now, as sadness briefly gives way to embarrassment “Mom, I thought we agreed we weren't going to talk about...”

My mom chuckles. “Alright, Alright. I'll stay out of your business. But if you're tired, maybe you should sleep for a few hours, until I need my meds again.”

I shake my head, with my thoughts and emotions in so much turmoil after my discussion with Greta this morning, I know I couldn't sleep right now if my life depended on it. “No, I'm not sleepy. I just have a lot on my mind, and I think I need some air. If you're okay here, I think I'm going to go out for a bit. I'll be back in time to give you your meds.”

My mother nods. “Alright then. I'll just sit here in my bed and watch daytime television until you get back. Fernando, are you sure nothing is wrong? You know you can tell me about anything.”

I sight loudly then, and I feel like a terrible son for lying to my mother twice in one day, but I'm not even entirely certain what happened with Greta this morning, so I just say. “I'm fine, mom. I'll see you later.”

I call another cab then, with a nice driver this time, and use some of the change from my last cab ride to pay the man when I reach my destination. I'm filled with shame about what I'm about to do next, in public, more or less. But I need relief from all the pain, and sadness and self-hatred I feel immediately, and I know that food, and lots of it, is the only thing that makes me feel better when I'm feeling this bad about myself. Since the Buy More is open(and probably crowded), and I don't want to worry my mom, whose always afraid my eating habits are going to give me a heart attack one day, this is my only option. Therefore, with a sigh, I enter the upscale, all you can eat buffet, still wearing my t-shirt and sweatpants, since nothing else fits me after a binge.

The cashier politely takes my money, a lot of it, at the door. Then one of the servers walks up to me “Your usual table, Mr. Hernandez?”

I just nod, and the server takes me to a large table, located in a private room in the back of the restaurant, which is sometimes reserved for parties. When the room is in use, I never eat here. As I sit down, I add. “And I I'll have a Diet Coke to....Who am I kidding? I'll have have a regular Coke to drink, please.”

The server, George,a forty something man who has served me at this restaurant several times before, gives me a sympathetic look, before he nods and says. “Of course, sir.” He knows very well that when I come to this place, I usually order a Diet Coke, and try to hide some of my plates under the table whenever a server comes into the room, so I can at least try to pretend I'm a little less of a pig than I really am.

George gives me a concerned look when I add. “Is there going to be a private event in this room sometime soon? I was hoping to eat in private. And I think it's going to take a while today.”

George shakes his head. “No, sir. No events lined up, today. This room is yours until closing time, if you want it. And feel free to eat as much as you want. At 5 Star buffet, all you can eat means all you can eat.”

I nod at George and give him a smile. One of the reasons I like this buffet so much, despite it's hefty price tag, which will leave me with barely enough money left over from Greta's c note to get a cab home, is the discretion of the staff. No staff member here would dare insinuate that a paying customer was eating too much, or point out their gluttony in an offensive manner. Furthermore, the high price point of this establishment means that I'm unlikely to run into any of my “friends” from the Buy More, who often tease me about my weight already, here, since they all work for,minimum wage, or near it, like I do. Of course, that also means that I can't afford to eat here often, so I reserve my visits for times when I really badly need to binge in the middle of the day, and I don't have time to pick up food from multiple locations.

I really need this today.

As soon as George leaves to fill my drink order, I head towards the seafood section of the buffet, and fill my tray with several plates worth of lobster, crab, shrimp, salmon, and other items. I get a few stares from other patrons at the buffet for my informal clothes, since most of the rich customers at this restaurant are wearing either a suit and tie, or a dress, but I pay them no mind as I take my bounty back to my table, where my Coke is already waiting for me. I practically inhale all of the food, but I taste every salty and savory flavor as I masticate, moaning quietly with pleasure and taking sips of soda in between different items to clean my palate The whole time, I am dipping shrimp and salmon bits into various sauces before I eat them, and I smother the whole lobster on one of my plates in butter before I consume all of the edible pieces.

I BUUUUUURP! Loudly, but nobody can hear me from this room, or at least, no none can pinpoint where the burping is coming from, as I rub my belly and think to myself. 'How can anyone be skinny when so much food this good exists!? Come to think of it, the world would be a better place if everyone was fat! Then nobody would have to be ashamed of being overweight, or eating whatever they want! Hell, maybe if Greta were fat, she might be able to like me for real....”

That thought gets away from me before I can reel it in. And I imagine, just for a moment, that I see a “Greta” with chubby cheeks, two chins, a large spare tire, a fat ass, and plump limbs covered in cellulite and stretchmarks”Fat Greta” is just as beautiful as the real thing in my eyes, with the same dazzling smile, beautiful eyes, and amazing hair as the original, just a lot bigger...

I shake my head at that thought. 'There's no way Greta would every let herself get that big! And even if she did, there's no guarantee she would see a slob like you as anything more than an object of pity!'

I sigh as I look down at my favorite shirt. The STAR WARS logo and the likeness of Jabba the Hutt are both stained with butter, grease, and various red sauces, just like my face, while Princess Leia's image somehow remains immaculate. I try not to think to hard about this as I wipe of my similarly filthy face and Star Wars logo, but try as I might, one of the butter stains won't come of of Jabba. I sigh as I get out of my chair after several seconds of effort, then return to the buffet tables.

Usually, I would be too embarrassed to keep eating with a stain on my shirt, but my traitorous' minds intermittent thoughts about Greta are still tormenting me, and I know I need more food to numb the pain. So I go the barbecue section of the buffet instead of leaving the restaurant Someone I can't see remarks, “Hey, tubby! It looks like Jabba the Hut is just as messy an eater as you are!” My ears burn, and I'm sure my face is red right now, but I pretend not to hear the cruel man's words as I fill the clean plates on my new tray with steak, ribs, and grilled chicken. I then make a quick detour to the soup and salad section of the buffet to pick up a baked potato, the largest one I can find, and filling the inside of it to bursting with bacon bits, cheese, and sour cream, then I smother the outside of the potato with butter, because I NEED the calories right now.

Soon, I'm back at my table in the private room, which now has a newly filled coke sitting in front of my spot. George, who is still picking up my empty plates from my last trip to the buffet, smiles pleasantly at me when he sees all of my new plates of food. “Still hungry? You must have a very healthy appetite today, sir!”

George's tone of voice is friendly, and not at all condescending, so I force a smile and reply. “I always have a big appetite, and I'm always hungry. So I can't stop eating.” I pat my large stomach, causing it to jiggle a bit, despite the fact that I'm already starting to get full. “That's kind of my problem!”

I blush at my outburst, and I'm still wondering where that came from when George, who keeps smiling, despite my words, says “My wife has that 'problem' too! She's very...reubenesque, and she eats here at least once a day, but I love her just the way she is. ”

I'm getting a very good idea of why a middle-aged man is still working as a server at a buffet when George adds with a smile. “I actually met Rosie working right here, at this buffet! Sometimes I think she only married me for my family rate buffet discount!” George laughs, then adds with a grin. “Not that I would mind that too much! I love every inch of that woman! I think I had a point someplace in that ramble, but I forgot what it was. Oh, well!”

My strange waiter then quickly exits the room with my dirty dishes, leaving me to sit down in my chair and think to myself. 'I thought I'd found someone like that too! I thought Greta actually loved me the way I am, fat body and all! What a fool I was!' As I quickly devout my steak, which I had already coated with enough barbecue sauce to drown the cow it came from, I can't help but feel that my situation is completely different than Rosie's. Fat women are beautiful. I would know, I've stared at my fair share, of them, just as I've stared at many skinny girls. I may be a pervert, but at least I'm an equal opportunity pervert, dammit.

In my opinion, the feminine beauty of women who have 'more to love' is not, at all, impaired by their extra weight. In fact, in the cases of some of the regular female Buy More customers that I've watched pack on the pounds over the years, some women just get more beautiful as they grow fatter. And a part of me can't help but think that “Greta” would definitely be one of those women if she ever got big. But no woman wants a fat guy. At least, no woman as beautiful as Greta. Unless that fat guy is rich...which I'm not. So that pretty much means I'm screwed either way.

POOOT! UUURP! I belch, and I fart, and I try to drown out my depressing thoughts with the rest of my steak, chicken, ribs, and my baked potato. But even after all that food is gone, and my belly is sending my brain that happy, sleepy feeling that I get when I'm full, but not quite stuffed, my heart and mind are still dwelling on Greta, and the perfect night she and I shared together yesterday. Her asking me out, and helping me restock the display, seeing her in that sexy black dress, our lip sync battle, the five star dinner where Greta encouraged me to eat till I was full, then keep eating. The make out session during the car ride home. And the sex! Holy shit! That was amazing! And of course I can't be sure, because until last night, I was a virgin, but I'm 99% certain that the fact that I was...Who am I kidding, that I still am, in love with Greta, made the experience even better! It was as if mine and Greta's hearts, as well as our bodies, were one for a moment. Maybe that's why they call it making love.

Most of all, I keep remembering what happened after Greta and had sex, when she rested her hand on my large belly, without hesitation as we both slept that night. And for just a moment, I felt completely loved and accepted. I knew in my heart that the woman I loved loved me back unconditionally, fat body and all! And even though Greta's words this morning indicate the opposite now, I can't help but remember the way Greta was rubbing my belly this morning, and (I think, because her voice was muffled by her pillow) saying my name in her sleep. Or the way that Greta has always been nicer to me than any of my so-called friends at the Buy More, even before the ladder incident. These actions don't line up with Greta's cutting words towards me this morning, so I can't help but wonder...

Then I look down at my disgusting body, and my Star Wars shirt, which is stained with barbecue sauce and sour cream, because my distracted thoughts are making it harder than usual for me to eat neatly today, and I remember how much of a fat slob I am. 'Get real, Fernando! There's no way that a girl like Greta could ever love a fat ass like you!' So I clean myself up as best I can, and get up to get myself some more food. And why not? I know in my heart, that I'll always be fat, because I love food too damn much, and I have no self-control when it comes to eating. When I'm down, food is the only thing that makes me happy. Except Greta.

'What you had with Greta for just one night wasn't even real, Fernando!' A voice in my head tells me. 'Love is a pipe dream for a fat ass like you! So keep eating! Food is the only thing that can make you happy now! It's the only thing you deserve!'

And even though another smaller voice inside me reminds me that my mom fell in love with my dad, many years ago, when he was already fat, and that my obese parents didn't have to choose between food and love, I listen to the louder, meaner voice inside of me as I sullenly fill up another tray. As I load up my tray with pizza, pasta, fried chicken, a triple cheeseburger, steak fingers, and french fries, I resign myself to my fate of being a total glutton as I think. 'Someday soon, Fernando, your mother is going to die, and you're going to be all alone! And then food will be the only joy you have left! Might as well embrace it now, fatty!'

So when I bring back my food to my clean table, and fresh coke, I dig in as if my life depended on it. I practically inhale all of the unhealthy items on my new tray, and I hate myself for loving every bite of the salty, greasy, and savory food that I eat. My stomach is getting hard now, and I'm already pretty stuffed by the time I'm done with my third huge tray of food, but the pain in my heart caused by Greta's words remain. With a sigh, after finishing my third coke, I get up to get more food, belching and farting loudly as I do so. But I don't care if anyone hears my burps now, and I don't care about the stench that now fills my private room. Hell, I don't even care about the new ketchup stain on my shirt, which landed, despite my best efforts to eat my burger and fries neatly, right on the side of Jabba's mouth. I just know that I'm still hurting, so I need more food.

When I go to dessert section of the buffet, I can't help but remember the last time I felt this bad, and tried to use food to kill my pain...right after my dad died. I had always been a big kid, but up until my Senior year of high school, I had been able to manage my diet well enough that I was only “overweight”. But after my father died, I binged food for six months straight, because nothing else, including therapy and antidepressants, made me feel better back then, and I gained fifty pounds. This put me well into the “obese” category. I've tried to lose the weight many times over the years with various diet and exercise routines, but they all failed. Because since then, I've loved food too much to stick to a diet, and I'm too flabby and unfit for any exercise routine that's intense enough to make a difference. So I just got fatter after every weight loss attempt. Finally, I accepted that I'm fat, I'm always going to be fat, and there's nothing I can do about it. So I might as well just enjoy the foods I love.

But none of these thoughts make the judgmental stares of some of the other customers in the buffet any easier, especially when my shirt keeps riding up and exposing the bottom of my partly stuffed belly. And my ears turn bright red again, and I want to die of embarrassment, when I hear that same mean, annoying customer who made fun of me and my shirt before singing the lyrics to “Moobs like Jabba.” somewhere in the restaurant Even though I don't have moobs...yet, I still find the lyrics hurtful for some reason, and I quickly load up my plate with various portions of cakes, pies, cobblers, brownies, puddings, jello, and other desserts, then run/waddle back to my table, breathing hard and sweating as I do so.

I'm already taking a bite of a brownie before my ass hits the extra-wide chair that George is always thoughtful enough to provide me, and I moan as the chocolate frosting hits my lips. Fuck. Food is so damn good! I inhale the rest of the brownie, then quickly plow though the other desserts, until I hit that ultimate food high that I always eventually get when I binge eat. For just moment, as my taste buds are overloaded with chocolate, and sugar, and various fruity and sweet flavors, and my belly is completely full and sated, I become completely blissed out. For a moment, I imagine that Greta is in the room with me, and she's feeding me all of these desserts herself while rubbing my large belly. Then dream Greta smiles and repeats the words her real self said last night. “I like a man with a big appetite!”

And then the supreme moment of bliss and happiness ends, I'm alone in the private room of the buffet, in front of a table full of empty plates, and my stomach feels like it has a giant boulder inside it. It takes me several minutes of recovery time before I can get up from my chair, and I use that time to leave George a good tip, then clean myself as best I can. But my Star Wars shirt is still covered in food stains...except, somehow, “Leia” still looks immaculate, as her image was somehow unstained by my gluttony. And for some reason, this makes me laugh.

But I don't laugh when it takes almost a minute of sweating, gasping, and straining myself just to rise up from the chair. Nor do I find it funny that every step I take when my stomach is this full is painful for me right afterward. Because in this moment, I feel about as fat, and ugly, and disgusting as a Hutt. And I can't help but think that Greta must be more of a “Princess Leia” type, attracted to charming, handsome, thin men, like Han Solo. But me? I'm just a fat slug. And if there's one thing “Return of the Jedi” taught me, it's that, no matter how hard he tries, a disgusting fat slug never gets the princess.

My thoughts are glum on the ride home. The new cab driver keeps getting irate because I can't stop farting after eating so much, and I micromanage him by making him take the fastest route home. Even then, I barely have enough money to pay my driver, and the cabbie yells at me and calls me a cheap skate for not tipping him with money I don't have.

But I don't have time to worry about the cabbie as the alarm on my phone goes off, telling me it's time to give my mom some more medication. So I hurry as fast as my fat, stuffed body will let me, and I don't even bother to change my shirt before entering my mom's room, because I don't have time. At first, I think I've gotten away with my binge without my mom noticing the stains on my shirt, or the fact that my bloated belly is completely exposed by my temporarily too small shirt. But off course, I'm not that lucky. And after I'm done giving my mom her meds, and helping her to and from the bathroom, she looks at me and speaks in a concerned tone. “Fernando, your shirt is filthy! Have you been binging again? You know I don't blame you for being big when it's in your genes, but I worry you eat too much sometimes, and that you'll start eating as much as you did after your father died again! I know you inherited your appetite from you father and I, but I'm worried if you eat too much, you'll...”

“Have a heart attack?!” I half ask/half demand angrily. I don't know what's come over me, but I'm so angry all of the sudden. “Why is that any of your business? Why was it okay for dad to eat whatever he wanted, but not me, huh?! Why is it okay for you to eat whatever you want, mom?! And don't give me that look, I clean your room all the time, and I know about the huge candy stash under your bed, so stop being such a hypocrite! Besides, we both know being fat wasn't what killed dad, and being fat isn't what's killing you now! So I'd say the odds of overeating killing me are pretty low, don't you think?! Besides, sometimes...sometimes when life suck really bad, food is the only thing that makes me feel better! Why are you trying to take that away from me, mom?! Why do you get on my case about doing the only thing that makes me feel better when I feel like shit!?”

I instantly regret my rant after it leaves my mouth, and I start to apologize to dying mother, who looks to be on the edge of tears now. “I'm sorry, mom. I didn't mean...”

But my mom shakes her head and forces a smile even as tears roll down her face, which has more wrinkles than a middle-aged woman's should due to years of stress and sickness. “No, Fernando. I know you meant what you said. You're right. You're a grown man and I don't have any right to tell you what you can and can't eat. And I am a hypocrite. I really did try to follow the diet the doctors gave me after I got sick, but....food, especially candy, has a lot of power over me these days. It has for years. So I've been hiring people to buy me candy when you're at work. And now, it seems, you've inherited mine and your father's dependency on food. I'm sorry we've failed to teach you moderation. I guess I haven't been the best mother....”

I don't even let my mom finish that sentence. “You are a great mom, and you've always been here for me! Look, I don't care if you eat candy, okay? I don't care that you love to eat, just like I do. You being big, and eating a lot, doesn't make you a bad mom...”

“And you being big, and eating a lot, doesn't make you a bad son, or a bad person, Fernando! You are an amazing person, and I know that you've made a lot of sacrifices to take care of me!” By this point, my mom is hugging me, and then she looks at me through her tears. “I promise I won't get onto you about your eating habits, Fernando, if you won't get onto me about mine. But I'm still worried about you, because I know you don't usually binge unless something is really bothering you. Tell me the truth, please. Did your date with Greta not go well?”

I sigh and shake my head as I pull away from my mom's hug. “I don't really know how to answer that. I thought things had gone really well...until right after we...I woke up this morning...”

My mom smirks at the pronoun change, but says nothing as I continue speaking.. “And then....I guess you could say Greta and I had a fight. It was weird, though. Greta's words this morning said one thing, but her actions, the night before, and when....”

I sigh then, and knowing the cat's out of the bag already, I conclude. “When she woke up this morning, said something else. I'm really confused, mom.”

My mother frowns at me. “It sounds to me like this Greta is a woman that doesn't know what she wants. Do you think you'll see her again? Outside of work, I mean?”

I shrug and frown. “I don't know.”

My mom sighs. “Listen to me, Fernando. If Greta doesn't come back to you, then it wasn't meant to be. And that will be her loss, not yours. Because you are a good, kind, selfless person....”

I shake my head. “Mom, please just stop with the pep talks, okay? I'm not in the mood!”

My last remaining relative sighs. “Okay. But every word I said is true, Fernando. Now,. give your mother a hug now, I need to rest.”

I hug my mom, and tell her I love her. I always try to do this before I leave her room, and I feel guilty every time I forget, because I know any moment could be my mother's last. I then go to my room, and change into a clean shirt, then wait until the sound of my mom's snoring, and her monitoring devices, indicate that she is asleep. I then put on my headphones, open my laptop, and visit some of my favorite websites. But the sounds and images that are presented to me don't give me the same kind of thrill they used to, and my mind keeps comparing what I see and hear to the real thing. What it actually felt like to be with Greta, the woman that, even now, my traitorous heart still loves. So I sigh and log off the internet. I briefly contemplate taking up Jeff and Lester's offer, relayed via Skip, to join their “League of Perverts” site, to see if that will help me feel something other than sadness and pain....but I'm not that desperate yet. And the part of me that still hopes that Greta was lying about not having feelings for me this morning, that the brunette woman of my dreams might want to date me again sometime, doesn't want do anything that would make “Greta” ashamed of me. So the hopeful part of me convinces me not to become an internet voyeur...at least for now.

But the sad and angry part of me, which thinks Greta is gone, and never coming back, is still there, and I'll do anything else to make it shut up for five minutes. So I open up the drawer in my desk where my emergency stash is hidden, and unwrap a five pound, giant candy bar. My stomach has barely settled at this point, but I need this so badly right now that I don't even care. I moan with pleasure as the chocolate hits my taste buds, and right then, I know I'm not going to stop eating until this entire chocolate bar is gone, full stomach be damned. Even so, I know that the emotional pain I'm feeling right now won't be gone by the time the chocolate bar is, and my mom's old warning come to mind as I wonder what will happen if I do eat to much and have a heart attack.

Can a heart still hurt after it's stopped beating?

Greta's POV, five days later, a mansion in Central America...

I smile at the fat man in front of me as I run my fingers through his dark hair, while he plays with my breasts by reaching under my shirt. Then I whisper in the man's ear. “Tell me what it is you desire. I live to serve you..”

The fat man, Rico Escavar, laughs, an action which causes his large body, which is naked from the waist up, to jiggle, and I see Rico's double belly, two chins, and moobs all wiggle as he chuckles. Then the man says. “That you do, woman. That you do. But although I approve of your submissive attitude, I don't like woman who have no capacity for....creativity. Do you have any ideas of your own about how you could pleasure me?”

Rico and I are both speaking in Spanish, of course, and I try not to think about how much I hate my mark, despite the fact that the fat man is, physically, my type, as I lean forward and whisper into his ear, even as I think to myself. 'If you weren't an arms dealer and sex trafficker who likes to dip into his own “merchandise” on occasion, I might feel sorry for you. You're making this way to easy!' But what I say instead is. “Let's go just outside the compound, and make love where we can see the lights of the nearby city! It will be much more romantic that way!” I know, based on his profile, that Rico likes to pretend the woman he has abducted to “serve him” are his girlfriends, so I decide to play that role.

Rico laughs nervously. “But, Melissa...Marissa, whatever your name is...Anyone looking towards the hills with a telescope could see us!”

I smile wider, and I put a little extra seductiveness into my voice, and try not to wonder why my stomach is turning right now. Usually, I can emotionally detach from the things I have to do during seduction missions like this one. But tonight, for some reason, I feel sick and....unclean for letting the CIA use my body this way, even if it does serve a greater purpose. In this case, that greater purpose is getting information about the mysterious Volkoff organization, which team intersect has been after for some time now. As it is, it takes everything in me not to throw up as I nibble on Rico's ear and whisper. “That's what makes it fun! Besides, the men who took me, liberated me from my poor neighborhood in America and my disgusting husband, who is much too thin since he lost weight, told me you were a rich and powerful man, with many friends in this country's government! What could anyone do if they saw us making love on the hills, except look upon me in envy for having such a respected and powerful man as my lover!”

Rico seems to be a very stupid mark, indeed, because he buys my bullshit story instantly. The real Melisa Mctagart was an American from a poor neighborhood in El Paso, Texas. That much was true. But Melissa disparately loved her Mexican husband, Manuel, and she asked to be returned to him immediately after a CIA raid rescued her from a Cartel base in Juarez, weeks after she had been kidnapped from the club she worked at, to be one of Rico's “playthings.” Once Melissa told my organization about the plan's Rico had for her when the Cartel discovered she could speak Spanish, and that Rico had only been given a basic description of the brown haired, hazel eyed woman, it was decided that I would pretend to be Melissa. This choice was due to my skill with seduction missions, and the fact that I looked similar to the kidnapping victim. One fake “Cartel” drop into Rico's compound later, and I was in the belly of the beast. It's a good thing this beast is so dumb. “Yes! You're right! Any woman would be lucky to have me as her lover! I hope everyone sees me making love to you, my beautiful American flower! We should do just what you've suggested!”

I smile, as my plan seems to be going perfectly. After being in Rico's compound for less than 30 minutes, and not having to do anything more sexual than letting this disgusting man touch my breasts, it looks like he is going to be following me outside of the compound, away from his men. Then I, and a bunch of trained CIA agents will abduct Rico to pump him for information on Volkoff, and send him to an international prison. After all, the mini-cameras/speakers that I placed in the corner of this room while I was “cowering” in a corner, away from some of Rico's guards, are already doing their job, and my contacts will know to be ready. But as I prepare to leave the room while swaying my hips seductively, Rico grabs one of my wrist and says. “Tsk Tsk. First you do something I want, flower. Than I will do something you want.”

I suppress a gulp and smile sweetly at Rico. “Of course, master. I live to serve you, and I only wish to make you happy so you will keep me! Then perhaps, you, and only you, can be my master forever and always! That would make me very happy!”

Rico's smile widens. “I must congratulate my business associates for training you so well to know your place, woman! Continue to serve me well, and I will make you a permanent member of my harem! I will take you to the the cliffs on the edge of the city, and make love to you all night long! But first, you must do something for me.”

My fingers get that familiar itching feeling they get when I really want to kill someone, even as I say. “Anything, master! Just name it!”

Rico forces me to his side by pulling my wrist towards him, and even as my I feel Rico's soft moobs and belly through my shirt, a thousand alarm bells go of in my head, telling me things are about to take a turn for the worst. At the same time, this disgusting criminal's soft body reminds me of the way Fernando's fat body felt against mine when we made love during our one magical night together. But Fernando was kind, and sweet, and considerate of my needs when we had sex, always making sure he didn't hurt me with his large body. The man who forcefully lifts up my skirt, so I can feel his member on my ass through my underwear, is the opposite. So, naturally, thinking about Fernando just makes me hate Rico all the more. And Rico adds kerosene to those fires of hatred when he says. “Good! Then you won't mind you entering you through your back door!” and slaps my ass!

I draw the blade that I smuggled into the compound inside my blouse (the “Cartel agents” told Rico I was weaponless, and Rico's guards were told to “keep their hands of the merchandise” if they didn't want to die) without thinking. So my favorite knife is at Rico's throat before I've thought of a “plan B” to get Rico to talk. But I improvise. “I don't think so, you sick son of a bitch!”

Rico's eyes widen in fear and confusion, even as he lets go of my wrist.. “What?! But Marissa...”

I press my knife into Rico's neck. Not enough to seriously injure the man, but enough to draw blood, before I hiss in the sex trader's ear. “Your would be slave's name was Melissa, and she's far away from here and safe from your clutches! Me, I'm someone a lot more dangerous, and I need information from you...now!”

Rico glares at me. “You bitch!” But when the disgusting man in front of me tries to attack me, I'm much too swift for him, and I quickly dodge the fat man's attempted tackle, use his own momentum to spin Rico around, then push the still moving gun runner into nearby wall before putting my knife to his throat again, just as he's opening his mouth to call for help. I then nick another part of Rico's neck before covering his mouth and whispering into his ear. “Please call for help when I remove my hand from your mouth. I know you sell guns to bad people, and you've done terrible things to women. So go ahead, give me an excuse to kill you! Please?”

I know that the entire plan for this operation went tits up the moment I pulled out my knife to keep Rico from doing things to my butt that I don't want to think about right now. But Rico doesn't know that. So when one of the guards outside of the door yells, “Boss? Are you okay in there? I heard something hitting a wall!” I whisper into Rico's ear. “Tell the guard everything is fine, or I'll slit your throat before his hand even touches the door knob.”

When I withdraw my hand, Rico nods at me, then forces out a chuckle. “Everything is fine, Estevan! The new girl you gave me just has a lot of fire, and she likes it rough!”

The guard on the other side of the door laughs. “I'll leave you to it, then. Have a good night!”

After I can no longer hear the guard's footsteps, Rico turns to me with fear in his eyes and says. “What do you want?! I'll give you anything! Just don't kill me!”

I smile at Rico then. For I know there's no longer a scenario where both of us leave this room alive, and I don't have any plans on dying today. But what I say is. “Tell me everything you know about Alexei Volkoff's organization, which I know you do business with, and give me safe passage out of your compound, and I'll set you free..”

Rico's face pales. “If I tell you anything about Volkoff, Alexei will kill me! He a madman1”

I press my blade a little harder into Rico's throat, leaving a third mark in the criminal's skin. “That's three times I've nicked you with my blade. Hurts, doesn't it?! Funny thing though, if you don't start talking soon, the next cut is going to be a lot deeper, but you won't even feel it. Do you want to know why?”

Rico gulps. “Why?”

I smile wider at Rico as I say. “Because if you make me cut you again, I'm going to completely sever all the arteries in you neck with one swipe of my knife. You'll die of blood loss before you even feel the pain. Of course, if there's a hell, someone like you will definitely be going there. So, what do you say, Rico? Are you going to tell me what I want to know, or would you like to find out for yourself if hell is real, right now!?”

Rico is blubbering pathetically as he starts crying. “Okay, okay! I'll tell you everything you want to know! Just don't kill me!”

Rico spills all the secrets that he knows about Volkoff's organization over the next thirty minutes, and I make him speak loud enough that the speakers I've placed will be able to pick up his voice, but softly enough not to alert the guards No extraction team arrives as Rico spills the beans about all of the Russian bank account numbers, known Volkoff contacts, and other sundry details about Volkoff's organization, and I know there isn't going to be one. The CIA told me ahead of time that they couldn't risk an international incident by storming the compound to bail me out if this mission went badly for me. But I console myself with the knowledge that even if I can't get out of Rico's compound alive, at least I got the CIA, and my friends, Chuck and Sarah, valuable information they could use to take down the Volkoff organization After Rico is done telling me what he knows, he looks at me with hopeful eyes and says. “That's all I know! Will you set me free now?!”

I give Rico the sweetest smile I can fake. “Of course! I'm a woman of my word! In fact, I'm going to set you completely free! Free from your mortal coil....”

I expertly swing my blade, severing all of the major arteries in Rico's neck, just like I promised, but not before the criminal manages to yell. “Guards!” So I know I'm going to be in trouble real soon. By the time Rico's body hits the floor, I'm halfway to his desk, where I saw Rico store a .45 magnum right after I entered the room. A moment after I grab the gun, alarms start going off all over the compound, and a guard, Estevan, I assume, enters the room.

Luckily I'm a quicker draw then Estevan, and with a loud BANG! I fire a .45 round into the guard's head, killing him instantly! Knowing that my odds of survival are slim, since there are at least 15 more guards in this compound, from the headcount I did when I entered this place, and that I don't have much time, I drop the .45, which I don't have a holster for in my barely there shirt and underwear, and pick up Estevan's AK-47. I then charge into the hall, and quickly take out two more guards with the AK's semiautomatic fire setting, bringing the number of guards in the compound down to 13. I hope.

But thirteen to one odds still aren't the greatest, and as I charge outside into the courtyard, towards the walled compound's only exit, I fully expect to go down in a hail of gunfire. Sure enough, half a dozen guards already have their weapons pointed at me when I exit the building, and I have to quickly jump behind a stone column to avoid my body being ripped to pieces by bullets. Thankfully, these guards are stupid, and they all fire their weapons at the same time until all their guns are empty. There are six bullets left in my brand new AK-47, so I adjust the weapon to shoot only one round at a time, knowing I will need to make each round a kill shot to have any chance of getting out of this alive. Still, as I dive out from behind the pillar and fire a round into the closest gunman's head. I fully expect that I'm going to die in this courtyard, and idly think this would be a good death, going out fighting like Butch and Sun dance, or the 300 Spartans at Thermopylae And I resolve to myself that I will not go down easy.

Strangely, however, my thoughts swiftly turn to Fernando as I kill the next gunman with a shot to an artery in his leg. I think that my greatest regret right now, bigger somehow, than my regret over the huge mistake I made when I was fourteen, is that I pushed the fat man I love, a man so different than any other man I've ever slept with, away, hurting him with my words instead of telling him, that I love him. And somehow, that thought changes my mindset immediately, as I realize I need to live through this to make things right with Fernando. Fuck going out in a blaze of glory, I want to live!

One of Rico's men almost deprives me of the chance, as he sends a wave of bullets in my direction. But I see the man pointing his weapon at me out of the corner of my eye, and duck and return fire in time to dodge all of my opponents bullets before he can pull the trigger. Except one.

BANG! Even as a round from my weapon hits the attacking gunman's head, killing him instantly, one of his weapon's rounds manages to find my left shoulder. “Fuck!” I curse at the pain in my shoulder while dropping my automatic weapon, thankful that the bullet didn't hit any major arteries, but angry that I can't reliably aim a rifle without the use of my left shoulder. Still, I resolve not to give up, as I dive in between bursts of gunfire while rolling on the ground and drawing the freshly dead guard's side arm, another .45, out of his holster in one fluid motion. Less than a second later, I've put another gun round into another guard's brain.

The air seems to be made of bullets for what feels like the next hour, but couldn't possibly be more than five minutes or so, as I am continuously firing bullets, dodging gunfire, hiding behind cover, and relieving dead guards of their weapons during the course of the shoot out. I quickly lose count of the number of men I've killed by the time it's all over, but I'm sure it's a lot more than 16. When it's finally over, and I kill the last guard with a gun round to his head, I keep checking for more hostiles over the next 80 seconds. I'm about to sigh with relief at my miraculous survival when I hear several sets of footsteps behind me, and point my gun in that direction....

Right in the frightened faces of five scantly clad women of different ancestries. One of them appears to be African, one looks European , one looks Asian, and the two other women seemed to be of mixed ancestry. I point my gun in the face of the Caucasian women, thinking she is the one most likely to be able to speak English, and say. “Are you lot the women that Rico has enslaved to be in his harem?”

The European woman nods, and speaks with a French accent. “Yes. Where is Rico now? Did you kill that sick bastard for us!?”

I nod and smile at all five women while lowering my weapon. “Yes, that bastard's dead now. He can't hurt you all anymore. Are there any other guards still alive around the compound? Anybody else that might want to keep you here?”

The Asian women speaks some language I can't make out, Chinese maybe? But the French girl translates for me. “Ping says that she saw all of the guards leave their posts in order to storm the courtyard. If you killed all the guards here, than the way out should be clear, because every other staff member here is...was, only a slave, just like we were.”

Several men and women in suits and maid uniforms step out of numerous nearby building in the compound then, and I can't stop a wide grin from forming on my face. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I've made a positive difference in the world by doing something for the CIA, as I look at the thankful faces of Rico's former slaves as they gaze at me with smiles on their faces. For the first time in forever, I feel like I just might be a good person after all That maybe, just maybe, I do deserve to be happy. I raise my voice so the people around me can hear, then start walking out of the compound, ahead of the crowd, after I say. “Then let's all get the fuck out of this hellhole!”

...Sometimes later

The General grills me over a vid-screen for not following the mission plan while a medic is removing the bullet from my left shoulder and treating the wound while I lay down in a hospital bed in a secret CIA facility in this region of the world. But even as Beckman yells at me for not seducing Rico like I was supposed to, The CIA medical personal, as well as two of the women in Rico's harem, who had been injured by their “master” earlier today, look at me like I'm a hero for killing the sex trafficker And even the General backs off when I and tell her. “With all due respect, General, you weren't there! Rico was going to rape me if I didn't pull that knife on him! Somewhere very uncomfortable....”.

The General seems to get my point, and nods her head onscreen. “I see. “ The women shrugs. “I suppose it couldn't be helped then. Nobody can blame you for defending yourself against an attack that...invasive. Just...try to give your fellow agents a little more time to adjust next time you feel you need to deviate from a plan.”

I don't see how that would have been possible under today's' circumstances, but I just got back in Beckman's good graces, and I don't feel like ruining that. So I just nod and say. “Of course, ma'am. I will do that next time.”

The General nods. “Good. Now, agent Greta, you have some paperwork to fill out about this incident, but it can wait until your shoulder is fully healed, since I hear you write with you left hand, even though you use your right for most weapons. You are also excused from field missions, and anything but light duties at the Buy More, until your shoulder is healed. After that, given your traumatic experience today, you will still be excused from seduction missions, pending a full psychiatric evaluation, and until you feel you are ready to resume your duties in this area.”

I nod and give a forced smile to the General. “Thank you.”

The General nods, then smiles and adds. “Also, I notified your friend, Sarah Walker, that you were injured in the line of duty, and she will be waiting at the airport to drive you wherever you want to go when you arrive back in California. You did good work today, agent Greta. You got the U.S government one step closer to stopping Volkoff once and for all, and you've helped free a lot of people, who will be sent back to their homes as soon as we're done debriefing them about today's events, from slavery, all while eliminating a known arms dealer and sex trafficker Thank you for your service. That is all.”

...Two days later....

Shortly after Sarah picks me up from the airport, and we are both in her car, I briefly tell her about the mission, my recent breakup with Fernando, exactly how that morning went down , and how coming close to death two days ago made me realize that, whether I'm a good person or not, I desperately love Fernando and need the dorky fat man back in my life. Then I finish with. “But I'm still scared. Because I know Fernando is starting to figure out that I'm a spy, if he hasn't figured that out already. I mean, he already admitted he knows Greta isn't my real name....”

Sarah just shrugs at that. “”Well, that part's not that hard to figure out! Including you, the Buy More has hired four 'Gretas' in the past six months! It doesn't take a rocket scientist to see there's something suspicious going on there!”

I chuckle a bit at that, despite my serious mood. “Yeah, the Greta program is really dumb, isn't it!? But I can't really complain. It's allowed me to work with you, my best friend, more often, and being a 'Greta' allowed me to meet Fernando.”

I sigh then, and add. “I really need Fernando, back in my life, Sarah. And not just because he's fat. Or because he's the only nice guy I've ever dated. He's also enough of a gentleman to make me feel like a lady, and just perverted enough to make me feel desirable, and he's kind, and he compliments me a a lot, and....the list just goes on and on! Plus, Fernando even saved me from falling to my death, twice!”

Sarah's eyes widen slightly even as she continues to watch the road while driving. “Wow! You really must love, Fernando! I've never heard you talk about a man this much...ever! Especially not with this level of emotion! Look, if you love Fernando that much, I promise you that nothing bad will happen to him if he finds out you work for the CIA, because I know you won't let Fernando get hurt...and neither will me and Chuck!”

I smile at my best friend then. “You mean that?! You would help me protect Fernando if he was in danger, even from the CIA or NSA?”

Saran nods while still watching the road. “Of course I would! You're my best friend! Besides, you've helped me protect Chuck from both danger, and the government, multiple times! How could I do any less for you and Fernando!”

I nod and exhale in relief, as at least some of the anxiety I feel about the threats to Fernando's safety that may come as a result of him dating me dissipates “Thank you!”

Sara smiles and nods. “You're welcome! Just one thing, I heard about the ladder incident at the Buy More, and how Fernando caught you, and cushioned your impact with his body...and I'm sure you didn't mind that at all...”

I blush as Sarah keeps speaking. “But when's the second time Fernando saved you from falling?'

I smirk at Sara, who is watching me with her peripheral vision and say. “Oh, that? He kept me from falling when I slipped in the shower last week.”

Sarah looks confused for a minute. “Why was Fernando in the shower with....”

But Sarah's eyes widen as my smirk grows wider, and a look of realization passes over my blonde friend's face as she says. “Ohhhh! I withdraw the question! So you two...already?! You said that you broke up with Fernando in a rather brutal fashion, to protect him, the day after your first date. So...”

I roll my eyes. “Yes. Me and Fernando slept together on our first date. I'm not ashamed of that, and I have no regrets about that night.”

Sarah smiles and shakes her head. “I'm not asking you to regret anything. I'm just surprised, is all. You're usually a little more restrained than that on a first date. But I'm glad you've finally found someone you can let your guard down around...as long as Fernando doesn't abuse your trust, in which case, I would have to kill him. If you're so desperate to get Fernando back now, though, I'm guessing that one night was pretty great.”

I smile and nod at that. “The night was great. But more than that, Fernando was great. He was so considerate of my needs, even when we were having sex. He could be spontaneous, but he also kept asking me if I was okay with what he was doing, and making sure that I was getting something out of it, as well as him. Fernando is a great lover, but he's also a great person. That's why I need to apologize and get him back!”

Sarah sighed. “Damn. I never knew that chubby pervert had it in him to make a woman love him like you do! The bad new is, from what you told me about how you broke up with Fernando....you're going to need the mother of all apologies to make him take you back!”

I nod at that. “I know.”

Sarah shakes her head at that. “I'm not sure you do. You've never been in a long-term relationship before, so I'm not sure you understand what you need to do when you royally fuck things up with someone you really care about!”

I frown at that. “Don't tell me you've messed up this bad with Chuck before?! You two are like, a dream couple!”

Sarah laughs at that. “Chuck and I are not a dream couple! We love each other a lot, and the nerd and I would do anything for each other, but we've both managed to hurt the other by accident on multiple occasions, so I know what you need to do to fix things with Fernando. You need a full-blown, no holds barred, taking the blame for everything bad that happened the morning you broke up with Fernando, apology! Without the expectation that Fernando will apologize for anything himself, or forgive you right away....”

I sigh, but nod. “I can do that. Fernando didn't do anything wrong the morning I dumped him, so I don't expect him to apologize, but that second part will be harder. I really want Fernando to take me back right away, because I really love him and miss him a lot!”

Sarah sighs too. “I know, and for your sake, I hope Fernando does take you back tonight. But if what you told Fernando really hurt him, it may take him longer than a day to forgive you.”

I smile sadly and nod. “Only a true friend would be that honest. Okay, anything else?”

Sarah smiles. “Gifts are always good for apologies, as long as the apology they come with is sincere. But they have to be something that comes from the heart, and really shows that you know what it is the person you are apologizing to wants. What do you think Fernando would want from you?”

I shrug. “Well, I know Fernando loves to eat, even though he's usually too embarrassed to eat much in public, so I could get him a really large pizza from the pizza place he likes the most!”

Sarah nods, then shakes her head. “It's a good start, but you may want to go for something a little bigger for an apology this size!”

I think for a minute, then say. “I know that Fernando needs a new suit! But I don't know his measurements...”

Sarah smirks. “That's not a problem. Morgan mentioned in front of me and Chuck that Fernando's been gaining a little weight lately, so he needed to get fitted at the Buy More today for a custom-made work uniform. So I can get Fernando's measurements from Morgan.”

I smile, even as my thoughts towards Fernando become lustful, as I say “Good. I'll use those measurements to buy Fernando a new suit that is a little loose on him, so he'll have plenty of room to grow! And what's this you said about Fernando gaining weight lately? How big has he...”

Sarah laughs then. “Down, chubby chaser!”

I smile and blush at the same time. “What!? It's an innocent question!”

Sarah shakes her head. “Not from you, it isn't! And what's this business about buying Fernando a big enough suit that he has room to grow?”

I shrug, but avoid eye contact with Sarah as I say. “What? I just want Fernando to be comfortable if he should happen to gain a little more weight.”

Sarah shakes her head. “Uh huh. Look, I'm not going to tell you how your relationship with Fernando should operate when and if you get back together...”

“When.” I quickly correct Sarah. “ Failure is not an option! Likes I said before, nearly dying two days ago made me realize some things about myself, and one of them is that I really love Fernando and need him in my life! ”

Sarah nods “Okay. That's good, actually. You should definitely tell Fernando how much you love him after you apologize to him! But you should not be focusing on Fernando's body when you're trying to get him to take you back in the long run. Getting Fernando to forgive you should be your objective here, not trying to get him to sleep with you tonight!”

I pout in disappointment at that. “You mean I can't have both!?”

Sarah chuckles. “Somebody's eager!That depends on how quickly Fernando takes you back! If Fernando takes you back tonight, and seems in the mood for it, far be it for me to tell you that you two can't have make up sex! But that should be your secondary objective, at best, if you want Fernando to take you back and have a long term relationship with you!”

I sigh at that. “Okay, Sarah. I guess....for the first time, a long term relationship, with Fernando, is exactly what I want. It sounds like I'm going to have to put a lot of work into it, though.”

Once Sarah's car reaches a traffic light, the blonde agent looks at me and smiles. “Long term relationships are a lot of work. But if I'm right, and Fernando is your Chuck, then he will be will worth your effort!”

...a few hours later.....

I give Sarah a nod before she drives away in her car while saying. “Don't be nervous! You've got this!” Then, after taking a deep breathe, I steel my resolve, and walk towards Fernando's house.

I don't receive as warm a welcome as I did a week ago. Even though I had texted Fernando multiple times since I had arrived back in the States, and told him I would be coming here at this time, the fat (I still love that word) man I love isn't there to greet me when I reach the door with my gifts for him.

Nor when I ring the doorbell. Or try to, because it doesn't work.

Or even after I knock on the door several times.

I'm about to resort to finding some rocks to throw at Fernando's window, when the front door of his house finally opens. But instead of Fernando, a rather large woman, who is gasping for breathe and sweating profusely, opens the door. The blue-eyed woman who greets me with a frown on her face has hair that is mostly gray, but a few stray tufts here and there are the same dark shade as Fernando's hair, and I would know this was the mother of the man I love even I hadn't spied on him for a week. “You...must be....Greta!”

I frown at Fernando's mom, Jane. “Mrs. Hernandez, I presume? Would you like me to come inside so that you can sit down?”

Jane frowns at me a little, and her breathing evens out, even as her body keeps sweating. “This old body of mine may be sick, but I'm not sick enough that I can't stand up for this! Fernando is upstairs, trying to find something to wear that will impress you.”

That makes me smile, as I say. “Oh, that's nice! But he really shouldn't go through all that trouble to...”

Mrs. Hernandez huffs at that. “Well, that's one thing we can agree on, at least! You hurt my son, Greta! I don't know exactly what you did or said to him, but I know that my son was happy when he left this house to go on his date with you, and he's been depressed since the morning after that!”

I just nod at that. “That's why I want to apologize...”

Jane grimaces as she interrupts me. “And then...you don't call, or text my son for a week! Fernando didn't tell me that, but it was pretty easy to figure out that you were the reason he kept wistfully looking at his phone every five minutes! I don't know what kind of person you are, Greta, but you hurt my son. So I don't like you, and I have half a mind to slam this door in your hollaback girl face and tell you to leave my property, before you get the chance to hurt my boy again!””

I sight deeply, knowing that I could easily force my way into Fernando's house, but that it wouldn't solve anything, and it would probably not help to mention that nobody uses phrases like “hollaback girl” anymore. So instead, I do something that I very rarely do around people I've just met. I allow myself to be genuine, and just a little bit vulnerable. “I know I was horrible to your son, but I really want to apologize for that, and make things right with Fernando! Because...because I love him!”

Jane sighs at that, and as some of her anger visibly drains away from her face, the sick woman starts to look tired. “If that's true, why did you say whatever you said to hurt my son?! Why wouldn't you call or text him for a week?! What, were you out sowing your wild oats before you finally figured out my son was worth coming back to!?”

I shake my head. “It's not like that! I had...a work related thing...for another job I have. It was out of the country, so I couldn't call or text Fernando until today!”

Jane looks at me skeptically “And during this 'work related thing', did you have sex with other people?!”

I shudder as I remember Rico. “No! Definitely not! I couldn't stop thinking about Fernando all week, actually. About how much I love your son, and how sorry I am that I pushed him away! I just....I've lost a lot of people I've loved in my life, Mrs. Hernandez, and I was afraid to...”

Jane nods in apparent understanding. “Afraid to love again?”

I nod. “Yes. That's one reason for....Forgive me, but can we please continue this conversation inside? I can carry this pizza okay....” I show Jane the family-sized pizza I got for Fernando, which is in my right hand. “But I”m having trouble holding this new suit I got for Fernando because I recently injured my left shoulder.” I then show Jane the bag containing the three piece black suit I bought for Fernando, then awkwardly draw back just enough of the collar of my shirt to reveal the bandage on my bullet wound.”

Jane sighs , then steps away from the door. A wordless invitation to come inside, but I figure it's the best I'm gong to get. So I follow the very large woman inside, and say, “Thank you.”

Jane then gestures to an armchair and says, “You sit here!”

Fernando's mother then grunts as she plops down onto a nearby sofa. The woman's fat ass takes up most of both seat cushions After I carefully lay Fernando's suit on a nearby chair, I proceed to put Fernando's pizza on the nearby coffee table. Only then do I realize that the same table is covered in candy wrappers, some full, but most empty. Jane shrugs and says. “I hope you don't mind me having a little snack in the middle of the day, when I'm strong enough to go up and down the stairs. I know it's not the healthiest habit, but my son and I both love to eat. And we have recently come to an agreement that we won't hide our eating habits from each other anymore. We both have big appetites, you know.”

I shrug at that. “That's fine. It's a free country. You two can both eat whatever you want.”

Jane smiles at that, then says. “Hmm. Uninvited as you are, you are a guest in my home. Do you want any candy?”

I shake my head at that. “That's okay. I have to watch my figure for my other job.”

Jane frowns, then shrugs at that, just before she unwraps, then eats, a large candy bar. As Jane eats, I use the lull in our conversation to take a closer look at Fernando's mother. The older woman is even bigger than her son, with two chins that are threatening to grow a third, a massive spare tire that covers her knees when she sits down, huge, billowy limbs, with sausage-like fingers. Also, from what I say earlier while entering the Hernandez residence, Jane had several rolls of back fat, and a very wide ass. For just moment, I wonder what it would be like to be that fat, and the memory of my (wonderful? Terrible? Its hard to say) dream of being enormously obese immediately pops into my head.

I quickly push aside that memory, as I remind myself that. 'Remember, you've already decided that, just because you're dating a fat guy, doesn't mean you're going to let yourself become fat! You need to stay fit if you want to be in the CIA long enough to...'

But Jane interrupts my thoughts with her words, causing me to hope she didn't catch me staring at her body earlier, as the fat woman says. “You know, Fernando has always had a big appetite, but he eats the most when he's feeling a bit depressed. So, naturally, since your fight with him, my son has been eating a lot lately, and he's gained about ten pounds in the last week!”

My eyes widen at that number, and even though I'm upset that I made Fernando feel that bad, part of me is exited that Fernando has only grown bigger and sexier in my absence. I put on a stoic mask again, hoping Jane doesn't see my ambivalence written on my face as I say. “I'm sorry to hear that I hurt Fernando's feelings that much. I don't mind that there's more of him to love now, though...”

I mentally slap myself for my choice of words, but Jane just grins at me enigmatically, with a look in her eyes that suggests she know something I don't. Then after several seconds, the fat woman's grin morphs into a smirk. “Oh, you're one of us, too! I should have guessed when you brought my son such a large pizza!”

I gulp then, involuntarily. “ I don't know what you're talking about!”

Jane chuckles at that, causing all her rolls and fatty flesh to jiggle as she says. “New to the life, though. Otherwise, you wouldn't be so embarrassed about it. Meaning you have no idea what you're getting into, yet So, Greta, when exactly did you realize you were a chubby chaser?”

My eyes widen. “What? How did...”

Jane laughs. “I know? It's easy to see the signs, when one is into corpulent men themselves! I remember when I first met Fernando's father, Gabriel. My friends set us up on a blind date at a joke, since all my other relationships hadn't lasted long. But the first time I saw Gabe, all 300 pounds of him, although he got a lot bigger later, of course, I knew I was in love with him. And well, later that night...”

Jane's grin widened. “Well, let's just say that Gabriel showed me that, for women like you and I, 'once you go fat, you never go back!'

I blush, ever so slightly, at Jane's words, causing the big woman to laugh harder. “Oh! I see you know exactly what I'm talking about! No wonder you came back to my son....”

I frown at that. “That's not the only reason I care for your son...”

Jane's grin is soon replaced by a more serious look. “Oh, I guessed that the second I saw the label on that suit bag. Armani. They make very expensive suits, especially for men Fernando's size. You wouldn't have bought a gift like that for a...what is that expression these days? Friend with benefits. That's how I knew you genuinely cared for my son, and that's why I let you in my home. Well, that, and to let you rest your hurt shoulder. I'm not a heartless monster, after all.”

Jane's expression turns pensive. “You should know that I was even skinnier than you are now when I met Gabriel. But as you can see...” the fat woman pats her large belly, then points to the pile of empty candy wrappers. “A fat man's appetite can be contagious! Does that frighten you, Greta?! Knowing that dating my son could cause you to lose the 'girlish figure' you're clearly so proud of?”

I shake my head. “I'm confidant in my ability to keep my own eating in check around Fernando.” My voice falters a bit near the end of that sentence, as I remember eating more Fettuccine Alfredo then I intended to on my first date with the man I love.

Apparently, Jane notices the change in my tone of voice, since she raises her right eyebrow. Right then, I curse myself for my inability to remain as calm and collected as usual, when talking about Fernando, just before Jane smirks. “I once thought the same as you. You know, I once heard it said that there are two kinds of fat people. Those who are born fat, like Fernando and Gabriel And then, there are fatties like me, who were once skinny, but became fat due to various life circumstances. They also say, that for women such as myself, you can almost see the thin person inside us that we used to....”

I frown at the large woman. “Yes, I saw the Breakfast Club once. What's your point?”

Jane's smirk widens. “Just that I think some people have it backwards. I don't think there's a thin person waiting to get out of every fat person. I should know, because I have no desire to be thin again, and go back to dieting, exercising, blah!” Jane makes a disgusted face, then smiles wickedly and says. “No, I think, that outside of some thin people, there is a fat person waiting to get in! A person get a sense for these kinds of things after awhile, and I have been able to predict over the years, with near perfect accuracy, which of my friends and acquaintances are going to get fat! And you, Greta? You have that look about you. I can almost guarantee that if you date my son, you are going to get very, very fat indeed! After all, I doubt that you're eyes have kept drifting towards that pizza over the last five minutes for no reason!”

I curse my traitorous eyes for having doing exactly that, and I hope that Jane hasn't heard how my stomach keeps rumbling in response to how good the pizza smells. “I'm just concerned it will get cold, is all.”

Jane's smirk stays on her face. “Keep telling yourself that. Fernando doesn't mind cold pizza. But you can use the oven to heat it up So what is it going to be, Greta? You still have the chance to run out my front door and keep your slim figure. Or you could stay here, get back together with my son, who is crazy about you, and you will almost certainly get fat. Make your choice.”

Surprisingly, it take me almost no time to make this decision. My dream, of a fat and happy life with Fernando immediately comes to mind, helping me to decide that getting fat with the man I love, after I complete my personal life mission and retire from the CIA, of course, wouldn't be such a terrible thing. After all, I somehow feel, I know, Fernando loves me enough that he would still care for me if I got fat. Which I still (sort of) doubt will happen. And just to show Jane how strong my resolve to date her son is (and to spite her a bit), I quickly pick up a king-sized candy bar of my own, unwrap it, and take a big bite. After I'm done with the first bite of the chocolate bar, I smirk right back at Jane Hernandez. “I'll take my chances.”

Thirty later, after having finished my chocolate bar, which had caused me to think, ' Was chocolate this good when I stopped eating it at twelve years old?! How did I ever give it up?!', and reheating Fernando's pizza in the oven (which Jane showed me how to use), I decide that I've waited long enough. With Mrs. Hernandez's permission, I make my way up the stairs with my gifts for Fernando in my hand, then knock on the man's bedroom door. Fernando calls out on the other end of the door. “I'm decent! You can come in!”

I do exactly as the fat man says, and Fernando's back is turned to me as I enter the room. The man is wearing his Star Wars shirt and sweatpants again, giving me a great view of the man's enlarged ass, which look like it has absorbed about five pounds of fat on its own, making the man's backside even wider, and softer, than before. Fernando sighs and says. “Is Greta here yet, mom? I can't find anything that fits me! I think that my pants need to be let out again!”

I smirk as I clear my throat. “That's okay! Clothes are supposed to fit you, not the other way around! Besides, I bought you a new suit, complete with pants, so you won't have to worry about getting new dress pants for awhile!”

Fernando freezes at the sound of my voice. Then,the fat man slowly turns around, giving me a great view of the chubby face, double chin, and plump limbs that I have come to love so much. I also notice Fernando's noticeably rounder belly (which his shirt doesn't quite cover) and softer pecs (which are, to my delight, now small moobs), where the other five pounds Fernando has recently gained must have landed. Fernando takes a long, hard look at me then, sees the pizza box in one of my hands, and the Armani suit bag in the other. The fat man then smiles, then immediately frowns. “I'm dreaming again, aren't I?”

Fernando immediately pinches himself, then his eyes widen. “I'm not dreaming. Gret...I know you said you wanted to see me today, but...honestly, what are you doing here? I thought you said our date was a one time thing. Then, after a week, after, I've gained ten more pounds, you suddenly show up, bringing me a pizza?I thought you said I was too fat for you as it was!”

I sigh loudly. “I lied, Fernando. I told you that I didn't really have feelings for you, that I wasn't attracted to you, and pushed you away, in a rather cruel fashion, because...because I was scared of how much I have come to care about you in such a short period of time. That's never happened to me before!”

Fernando snorts at that. “Right. Like I'm supposed to believe a woman as beautiful as you has never once been with another guy you liked...”

I shake my head as I interrupt Fernando. “That's not what I said! I've been attracted to plenty of men, Fernando, and even a few women. And I've been on a lot of dates, and yeah, I've had my fair share of sexcapades and one night stands. I'm not going to lie about any of that. But I have never, ever, felt the same level of connection with anyone, as I already feel for you! And I am so, so sorry that my words hurt you, Fernando! Or that I made you doubt how much I care about you! I made a really, really, big mistake when I lied to you, then left you the morning after our first date, and I really hope that you can forgive me for that, so we can give...whatever was happening between us, another shot!”

Fernando's eyes are half-hopeful, half wary in that moment, and the doubt in the fat man's face breaks my heart a little as he speaks in a voice so soft, it's almost a whisper. “You really care about me that much? Even though I'm really fat?!”

I smile at Fernando, as I put the pizza down on the man's desk, and the suit on the bespectacled man's bed. I then place myself in front of Fernando and slowly start to lift the front of his shirt upward while whispering. “Is this okay?”

After Fernando nods, I roll the shirt up further, until Fernando's bare, fat belly is clearly visible. Coincidentally, the images of Jabba the Hutt and Princess Leia on Fernando's t-shirt are touching now, which makes me smile a bit as I remember the night I first realized I had feelings for Fernando. I then start to say. “Actually...” But then I decide to make this moment as intimate as possible by whispering in Fernando's ear instead, while I start to rub the handsome fat man's glorious gut. “I LOVE that you're FAT!” Seeing the skeptical look is still in Fernando's eyes, I quickly add, to my previous sentence, remembering how sexy the immobile “dream Fernando” had been, “I'm serious! I love that you're big, and soft, and warm all over! Don't worry, you could NEVER get too fat for me! Do you want to know why?”

Fernando nods. He looks dumbstruck now, but at least he doesn't seem to doubt my words anymore. I pull away from Fernando just a little bit, the pull his shirt down so I'm not distracted in this solemn moment. I smile at the fat man as I say. “Because I love you, Fernando Hernandez! I am completely, totally, in love with you!”

Fernando smiles then, and I see tears in his eyes, which he quickly blinks away. “I'm in love with you too!” The man then leans forwards to kiss me, and I happily reciprocate the gesture, until Fernando puts his hand on my left shoulder and squeezes just a little harder than I would like. “Oh!'

Fernando immediately pulls his hand away, as if being burned. “I'm sorry! I held onto you too tight, didn't I?! I...”

But I quickly put my right index finger against Fernando's lips and shake my head. “No, you didn't do anything wrong! It's just...” I sigh as I think about how to word this right, even as I pull the collar on my shirt back enough to reveal the bandage on my shoulder. “When I was out of the country for the last week for another job, which is the reason I didn't to contact you sooner...” I reason to myself this is only half a lie, since I really did want to contact Fernando two days ago, but had no means to do so. “I sort of, had a work related injury. And it's still a little sore.”

Fernando nods, and looks at me with an expression on his face that seems torn between concern and suspicion. Evidently, though, concern wins out for the moment, because the fat man sighs and says. “Let me get an ice pack for you.”

I shake my head. “That's not necessary...”

Fernando nods. “It is. There's something important we need to talk about, but I want to make sure you aren't in pain first. So stay here, okay?”

I just nod, and watch Fernando's ass and back fat jiggle as he leaves the room, because turnabout is fair play. By the time Fernando has come back from down stairs, the fat man is huffing, puffing and sweating. I barely resist the urge to stare at Fernando's moobs, which are now stained with sweat that leaks through his shirt, as my once and (hopefully) future lover hands me an ice pack. “Thanks.”

Once I have the ice pack pressed against my shoulder with my right hand, I say. “What did you want to talk about, Fernando?”

The fat man sighs again, deeper than last time. “You said you got that injury on a job other than your position at the Buy More. Somewhere outside the US. Does this have something to do with you being a spy?”

I try to keep my face as neutral as possible as I reply. “What? Fernando, I don't know what...”

Fernando glares at me, and although his is far from the most intimidating glare I've seen, it startles and hurts me a little bit to see that look directed at me from Fernando's usually kind (albeit wandering) eyes. “If you say that you don't know what I'm talking about, or that you're not a spy, I'm going to have to ask you to leave my home. I know I'm not exactly agent material, and I'm a chronic underachiever, but I'm not stupid, so don't insult my intelligence, okay?!”

I frown at Fernando. “Okay. I won't. But, what made you come to the conclusion that I'm a spy?!”

Fernando shrugs. “Lots of things. I've noticed odd things happening at the Buy More for years now, people coming and going throughout the work day, without getting fired, sometimes for days on end. Things going missing, usually dependable people having their minds elsewhere. That Casey fellow, who now works at the Buy More, hanging around all the time. Nothing concrete,. Just suspicious. Until the old Buy More got blown up, then got rebooted all the sudden. Buy More corporate doesn't have the money to rebuild a building that fast, bigger than before. And that brings me to my next point. I sometimes....used to sneak into the Buy More after hours, so I could eat what I want in peace, without people making fun of my weight.” I just nod at this, and Fernando continues speaking, albeit with a raised eyebrow. “I had the janitor make me a copy of the master key. But the ;master key' doesn't grant access into some of the new wings of the building, or any of the hidden doors, which are concealed throughout the store, that I've seen.”

Fernando shakes his head, then stares at me intensely “And then there are all the new personal, who were hired before the old staff members, like me, where rehired. People like you, athletic, intelligent, attractive...vastly overqualified to work at a Buy More.”

I shrug at that. “With how smart you are, Fernando, with your small investment business, I could say the same about you.”

Fernando shakes his head. “Yeah, but I'm not tall and athletic enough to be in the NBA, like some of the new guys, or attractive enough to be a model, like you. And all the Gretas? Please! Including you, six Gretas and counting have worked at the Buy More in the last six months, and one of them is a man! I don't think anybody who works at the Buy More is seriously stupid enough to believe that's a coincidence! Even Jeff and Lester are suspicious, albeit about all of the wrong things. For some reason, they have in their heads that you're the only suspicious person in the store.”

I smirk at that. “Don't worry, I got the Jeffster clowns handled. You don't have to worry about me!”

Fernando snorts at that. “If even half the things I suspect about you are right, I should be worried for those two if they learn too much!”

That makes me smile a bit. “Well, that definitely makes you smarter than they are!”

Fernando shrugs. “Jeff and Lester aren't stupid. Annoying at times, and lacking in common sense, on occasion, but not stupid. Don't underestimate them. But we're getting off subject. I know your real name isn't Greta. And there are a lot of things about you that tell me you're more than just a Buy More employee, including your recent trip out of the country, and that wound on your arm. What is that, a knife wound?”

I sigh. “Bullet wound. A knife cutting that deep probably would have killed me. I can't tell you how I got it though. I shouldn't even have told you I got shot....”

Fernando nods. “Definitely a spy, then. If you're not allowed to talk about what you do. But I believe, I know, that you are not a bad person, Gr...whatever your name is. I'm guessing you can't tell me which agency you work for?”

I shake my head, and Fernando says, “Hmm. Okay then, can you at least tell if you, and any other agents who might be working for the Buy More, are working for the United States, or another foreign power?'

I rub my forehead. “I'm not even supposed to tell you that, tell you any of this, but I really don't like lying to you, Fernando. And I definitely don't want you to think I'm a traitor to this country so....Yes, I do work for the United States government.”

Fernando just nods at that, and his face is more stoic than I've ever seen it as he says. “Good. I won't ask you for specifics. I don't want to get you court marshaled, and it's probably better if I don't know everything...”

I exhale in relief. “Exactly! One reason I tried to break up with you before is that I knew you were suspicious of me,and I thought if we kept dating you would keep digging into classified government business, and you might end up hurt, or dead! And I care about you too much to let that happen!”

Fernando nods again, but there's a half-smile on his face now, telling me he probably appreciates my concern, even as he says. “I understand that. And I don't want to go digging into things I don't need to, and probably don't want to, know. But there's some things, about you, that I do need to know if I can trust you enough to give dating you another shot. Can you answer just a few more questions for me? Three, to be exact.”

I frown, but nod. “Okay. Shoot.

Fernando frown back, as she asks. “Have you ever killed anyone?”

“Yes.” The answer comes out quickly, but I have to suppress a flinch at how cold the word sounds when coming out of my lips, in this context.

Fernando just nods again, however, as if he's expected this answer.”Where the people you killed bad people? Let me rephrase that, do you think every person you've killed deserved to die?”

I quickly go over the long list of terrorists, crime ring thugs, and other undesirables I've terminated for the CIA in my head, and the people I've “accidentally” failed to kill because I wasn't sure they deserved to die for their crimes, or I was uncertain if they were guilty of the crimes they were accused of. Several seconds later, I nod. “To the best of my knowledge, yes. Every person I've ever killed was a scumbag who deserved to die. I wish I could tell you about this person I killed on my last assignment He deserved it more that most!”

Fernando gives me another half smile. “I believe you. Have you ever gotten to save people, do some real good, in your secret job?”

I smile and nod as I think about all the people I liberated from Rico's compound two days ago. “Yes. I do occasionally, get to do some real good in my line of work. That's one of the reason I keep doing it.”

Fernando slowly breath in, then exhales with a smile on his face. “Okay. Okay. You're one of the good guys...girls, whatever. I can work with that. And I can live with you having secrets, I guess. As long as you keep coming home alive.''

I smile at that. “I'll do my best. But...it helps to have someone to come home to. My desire to get back to you alive is all that got me through my last mission, Fernando! So please, tell me you'll give me another chance to be with you! I promise I won't try to push you away again.”

Fernando's smile widens. “Yeah, I guess so. Considering we love each other, and I know where I stand with you know, I suppose we can try dating again.” Fernando's stomach growls. “But do you mind if I eat something now!?”

I laugh at that, and point towards the family-sized pizza I brought to Fernando from “Greasy Pete's Pizzeria.” “Well, I didn't bring you that for you to use as decoration!”

Fernando laughs along with me. “I guess not! Do you want some? That's an awfully big pizza you brought me!”

I frown a little as Fernando opens up the pizza box, revealing a huge pizza, loaded with toppings. And from this distance, I can distinctly smell that greasy, calorific dish is absolutely delicious. Unfortunately, I've already exceeded my calorie limit for the day with that candy bar. So I just shake my head. “No. The pizza was an apology gift to you. I know how much you love to eat. Eat the pizza yourself!”

Fernando shrugs, then quietly moans as he quickly eats the first slice of pizza I'm impressed by how neatly he's able to eat when he's actually trying, as not a single, stray bit of sauce, grease, or cheese escapes from Fernando's lips. But I'm also envious of the fat man, as the greasy pizza he's eating looks really good. Apparently, Fernando notices my staring, because the corpulent man smiles at me after eating the first slice of pizza, then says. “You know, I've noticed that you really like to eat too. Not as much as me, of course. But you really seem to enjoy eating sub sandwiches a lot. And you ate a lot of that Fettuccine Alfredo on our date, so...”

Fernando looks at me expectantly, the gestures towards the pizza. I roll my eyes. “Yeah. I like to eat. But I balance that out by exercising a lot. The more I eat, the harder I have to run the next morning. And your mom already goaded me into eating a candy bar downstairs.”

Fernando chuckles in between bites of his second slice of pizza. “Yeah, sorry for accidentally leaving you at her mercy today while I was trying to get ready! My mom can be a bit much sometimes!”

I shrug and smile easily. “She's just trying to be a good hostess. And she's protective of you. I can understand that. Especially since I hurt you last time I saw you...”

Fernando frowns between slices of pizza. “Can we not talk about that right now? Now that we're dating again, I just want to pretend that morning never happened.”

I smile at Fernando and say. “Of course.”

Fernando then sighs, and says, in between bites. “I know you have to be fit to be a spy, or whatever. But you're pretty skinny.”

Fernando looks at me after his third piece of pizza has been devoured, and adds. “Not that there's anything wrong with how you look now! You're beautiful! I'm just saying, I doubt it would hurt you, or your place as a spy, if you gained just a few pounds. I certainly wouldn't mind. And you could eat a bit more each day. You know, if you wanted to.”

My smile widens as I say. “It's good to know you wouldn't dump me if I gained a few pounds! I'll think about it. Now, eat your pizza!”

Fernando laughs, then reaches for his fourth slice of pizza while chuckling nervously. But the fat man doesn't bring the greasy confection to his lips just yet. “You know, I'm glad that you like that I'm fa...a bigger guy, and all. And you obviously enjoy watching me eat. Which is all good, because I love to eat! But, sometimes, since I've started gaining weight again recently, I worry that I, and also my mom, eat too much, you know?! That we'll get so fat, we'll have heart attacks or something!”

I smile and shake my head. “You won't. No matter how big either you, or your mom, get, it won't hurt your health, or have any side effects other than reduced mobility.”

Fernando looks at my with his right eyebrow raised, and says. “How can you be so sure?”

I sigh deeply then. Being honest with Fernando when there is so much about my life that is classified, is hard. But I don't like lying to the man I love, and I like the idea of Fernando denying himself pleasure from consuming all of the fattening foods he loves even less. Even so, I know I can't tell Fernando about the recent mission that me and team Intersect (sometimes called Team Bartowski) went on together, which involved a 400 pound ex-CEO of a pharmaceutical company turned mad scientists who had threatened to “ruin my old company forever, to punish the board's betrayal!” Nor could I tell Fernando that I had asked Team Intersect(which I still think is a cooler name than Team Bartowski) to wait to stop the scientist from putting chemicals into the atmosphere, using a plant from his former company he had regained control over, until we found out what the chemicals did.

 

The scientist had gladly revealed that. “It's very simple! Since the board of Excoltech kicked me out years ago, then overruled my wishes, in order to go from being a wellness company to a weight loss company that makes diet pills, I decided their punishment should fit the crime! So I made a compound that, when released into the air, makes it completely healthy for people to be as fat as they want, regardless of diet or exercise habits! And the best part is, my compound has no negative side effects. I tested it on myself, while gaining almost 300 pounds, and I'm healthy as and ox!” The scientist had patted his large belly then, and I had found myself oddly fascinated by the gesture, even as he said. “So I will release this compound into the atmosphere, where it will spread to the whole world, so that fat people will not longer feel the need to become skinny, and Excoltech will be ruined!”

I wish I could tell Fernando about the funny and confused looks on the faces of every member of team Intersect when I had shrugged and said. “What the hell! Let the mad scientist release the chemicals into the air! It's not like a world with happier, healthier fatties would be a bad thing!”

And I really, really wish I could tell Fernando that team Intersect and I had done just that, then arrested the scientist (because you can't hijack a chemical plant at gun point without consequences) AFTER he cured all obesity related illnesses by releasing his compound into the atmosphere a little over a month ago. But I can't, because General Beckman was ordered, by someone even higher up than her, to put a gag order on me and Team Intersect concerning that mission. Furthermore, the governments of the world had been trying to cover up the recent positive changes in the bodies of “overweight” or obese individuals, until the effects on the world economy of fat people suddenly being healthy can be analyzed.

Still, I knew that some underground newspapers and websites were already reporting on numerous cases of type 2 diabetes, high blood pressure, heart problems, and other obesity-related illnesses, being spontaneously cured in “overweight” individuals So I'm sure the scientific fact that's perfectly healthy to be fat now will be common knowledge in a few years. And Fernando deserves to know he can chow down without regret, So I smile and tell the fat man I love. “A thing happened, a little while ago. A classified event that I witnessed. The important thing is, being fat isn't bad for anybody anymore, and you can eat what you want, without exercising, and you will still be healthy!”

Fernando chuckled, then smiled, before taking a bite of his next slice of pizza. After he's done with that bite, Fernando says. “I believe you! After all, that doesn't sound any weirder than polio being pretty much cured by a vaccine in a single generation, and that happened a long time ago! So...I guess that this means I can eat as much pizza as I want?!”

I smile at Fernando as I sit on his bed, which is next to the desk he started sitting in front of while starting his first slice, and begin rubbing the little sliver of skin and fat that is exposed by his t-shirt. Fernando moans a little in pleasure, then starts to put downs his slice of pizza, before I stop him from doing so with my own hand while whispering into his ear. “Don't stop! Keep eating! I LOVE to watch you eat!”

Fernando half smirks, half smiles as he brings the slice to his lips and takes another bite while I keep rubbing his belly while I continue whispering. “You can eat what you want, as much as you want, whenever you want now, Fernando! And the bigger you get...” I kiss Fernando deeply when he is between pizza slices, tasting a mixture of pizza, fried foods that Fernando must have eaten earlier, as well as that unique Fernando flavor taste I can't get enough of.

When I reluctantly pull away from the kiss thirty seconds later, I continue speaking with a lecherous grin on my face, “The more of you there will be for me to love, and kiss, and fondle!” I squeeze Fernando's ass as he quickly eats another slice of pizza, and some small voice in the back of my mind is telling me that. 'This is wrong! You're making Fernando associate food with sex to satisfy your feeder tendencies! Pretty soon, he'll be even more addicted to food, and he won't be able to stop eating, even when he gets absolutely massive!' But a much louder voice tells me 'Who cares! Fernando getting fatter would be really hot anyway! Besides, this feels so good!”

The moan of pleasure Fernando makes after he finishes the slice of pizza makes me decide to listen to the second voice. 'After all', I rationalize to myself. 'How can anything that makes both Fernando and me feel this good possibly be wrong?!'

So up my game a little bit as I use my right hand to reach under Fernando's pants and underwear and begin kneading Fernando's huge, cellulite-covered ass, while my other hand puts down the ice pack on the desk, then picks up another slice of pizza and brings it straight to Fernando's mouth. To my delight, Fernando takes a large bite of the pizza slice without raising any objections to me hand feeding him, and the fat man even moans with pleasure after eating that bite of pizza, then says. “Are you sure I'm not dreaming?!”

I laugh at Fernando's words, then give Fernando another deep kiss, while squeezing his ass. After I pull away, I move my free hand to Fernando's large belly, then start rubbing the fat man's gut as I feed him another slice of pizza and smirk. “Do your dreams usually feel this good, Fernando?!”

Fernando quickly shakes his head, then moans again, just before opening his mouth after a bite and saying. “No way. This feels amazing!”

The fat man chuckles before I can feed him another bite, then he says. “You know, this is the first time in my life that I'm actually glad that I'm fat!”

I giggle nervously at that, and this time, I'm too happy to care that I sound like a school girl with a crush. “Don't worry, I'll make sure it's not the last! Are you enjoying the pizza, Fernando? “

Fernando's smile reaches all the way to his eyes as he says. “Hell, yeah! Especially when you feed it to me like this! But Greasy Pete's has always been my favorite!”

“I know! You ate three pizzas from there two weeks ago!” My eyes widen at the words that escaped my mouth before I thought about them, but I can see from the hurt and confused look in Fernando's eyes that it's too late to take them back. Fernando already seems to have figured out the implications of what I just said. “You were spying on me!”

I close my eyes for a moment to counteract the headache I feel forming behind them. “Fernando, please listen to me! I had a good reason...”

Fernando rolls his eyes as he drops the pizza slice he was holding. “Oh, I bet! Did uncle Sam put you up to spying on me!? Is that all our relationship is to you? Just some mission?!”

There are tears in my eyes now, but I blink them away. “No! I did some...reconnaissance of you before I decided to date you. But it wasn't for the government! Other men I've dated have lied to me, Fernando! And some have even cheated on me! So I just...I needed to know, for sure, that you were a good, dependable person, before I dated you! And you are, Fernando!”

Fernando sighs and shakes his head. “That still doesn't change the fact that you watched me without my consent! And was it really necessary for you to watch me eating in the Buy More warehouse the same night I saved you from falling off the ladder?”

My eyes widen. “You knew about that!?”

Fernando smirks, but there is sadness and pain in his eyes now. “I do now! I heard someone moan that night, though. So I already knew someone else was there. And even though the noise you made was far away, in retrospect, you still sounded the same way you do when you get really excited! Where you touching yourself while watching me eat that night?!”

I cover my face with my right hand. “It was an accident, Fernando! I was on my way out of the Buy More when I happened to hear some noises coming from the warehouse, I went to investigate and....you just looked really hot eating all that food that I was overcome with...I let myself be overcome by, lust! I'm really, really sorry!”

Fernando frowns, and I don't like the serious look in his eyes one bit as he says. “Is that all I am to you?! Just some object to lust after?!”

I glare at Fernando then. “No, Fernando, you mean a lot more to me than that! I love you! It's just that...liking big...fat guys is a new thing for me, and I was still getting used to those feelings at the time! But I promise that I care about more than just your looks, and I won't spy on you, unless it's absolutely necessary to keep you safe, ever again!”

I do let myself cry a little then, and Fernando dries some of my tears with his right hand as I say. “Please forgive me! Things between us just got good again, and I really don't want you to push me away!”

Fernando shakes his head, with a sad look in his eyes. “You mean the way that you tried to push me away when you lied about not having feelings for me? Look, Greta, whatever your name is. I don't want to push you away. I love you!”

I smile at that, but my face quickly falls when Fernando frowns again and says. “But I don't know if I can trust you! You've hurt me, more than most people ever even get close enough to hurt me, you've lied to me, and you've even spied on me! And you know what the worst part is? Aside from the fact that you're some kind of spy, I don't know the first thing about you!”

I shake my head as I try not to cry again. “That's not true! The things I told you about myself, apart from my name, on our first date, were true!”

Fernando rolls his eyes and sighs heavily. “I don't mean hobbies! I mean something real about your life! Something personal! Were you grew up, what you wanted to do for a living when you were little, what your parents are like, your real name, anything!”

I feel the air rushing out my lungs as I sigh heavily, but it feels like hope leaving my heart. “So, what? Are you breaking up with me now?!”

Fernando shakes his head. “I don't know. I just need some space, some time to think. I need to decide whether or not I can trust you enough to risk getting hurt again. Because right now, I just don't know.”

I nod while forcing a half-smile on my face. “Sure. Take all the time you need. I'll show myself out now and call a cab. When you make up your mind, well, you have my number.”

I sigh loudly as I start walking towards the door. But I stop briefly as I pull out a large stack of twenty dollar bills and place it on Fernando's desk. “Oh, yeah. Mr. Ecabado wouldn't accept your tip, and he told you to give you this back.” I'm lying, of course, but I still feel really bad about how mine and Fernando's first date ended, and a lot of other things. So I wanted to reimburse Fernando for the tip that night.

Fernando looks at me, then forces (I could stop him, but I don't) the money back into my hand as he says. “Use this money to buy yourself something nice. And take care of that shoulder.”

“I will.” I smile sadly at Fernando, then point to the money and say. “I'll hold onto this for your until I see you again, I hope that will be soon.”

I then proceed to walk towards Fernando's bedroom door, before I stop for a just moment to say something before I walk out of the room, down the stairs, and out of Fernando's home. “By the way, my real name is Sandra. I just thought you should know.”

My name is Sandra, but most people call me Greta. I just put my heart in Fernando's hands. I hope he doesn't break it.

Fernando's POV...

I watch Gre...no, Sandra, leave the room, and part of me wants to call out to her as she walks down the stairs, out the front door, and potentially, out of my life. As Sandra leaves, part of me, the part of me that wants nothing more than to love and be loved, wants to call out to her, tell her I forgive her for everything. That I trust her now. And that part of me feels like I've made a big mistake by letting Sandra walk out of my life a second time.

But another, mean and distrusting voice inside me whispers in my ear that 'Sandra, if that is her real name, has hurt you before, lied to you, spied on you! And you have no way of knowing if she'll hurt you again! You're better of alone than with someone like her, someone you can't trust!”

Right now, though. I decide not to make any rash decisions about what to do about Sandra, and instead turn to something I do know what to do about. As I absentmindedly eat another slice of pizza, I open up my laptop on my desk, then hover my mouse over a shortcut to a website Jeff and Lester, along with Skip, had invited me to join. I had downloaded the link to the “League of perverts” website over a week ago, but I had not yet joined their group, or engaged in any voyeuristic activities over the web, because I had felt like a website that spied on women was morally iffy. I didn't feel that way anymore. Not after the way learning that Sandra had spied on me had made me feel.

I quickly delete the web-link from my shortcuts list and my hard drive, and resolve to try to talk Skip, and the Jeffster duo, out of continuing their illicit internet activities. Hopefully, that will be enough. But now that I know what it feels like to be spied upon, I know I can't condone, must less participate in, their illegal, voyeuristic activities. I know what they are doing is wrong, and that me standing against the “League of Perverts” is the right thing to do.

I sigh, as I think to myself. 'I just hope that my decision to spend some time apart from Sandra is also the right one.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed the chapter! And remember, I thrive on feedback! Now, to address a few points.
> 
> The "dream sequence" at the beginning is based on a real phenomenon that occurs in dreams called "time dilation", in which dreams can seem to last a lot longer than they actually do. I myself have had dreams that seemed to last as long as a week, and some people claim to have lived entire lifetimes in their dreams. If you haven't done any research on this subject yet, look it up. It's quite interesting. 
> 
> I'm not trying to bash either Greta or Fernando in this story. However, I thought it would be interesting to explore how two very different people in a relationship could cause problems for themselves due to various self-worth issues, which make it hard for either Fernando or "Greta" to trust people. Needless to say, even in fiction, these issues can make relationships difficult.
> 
> Also, I hope everyone is okay with me having this Greta's real name be Sandra. It was important to me to have that characters "real" first name start with an S. The reason for this will become clear later.
> 
> And yeah, the Jeffster "League of Perverts" (or whatever the heck they were called on the show) story arch is problematic, because the existence of the group is so important to the canon of Chuck (due to the series finale) that I couldn't just have the group be erased from existence here. However, I thought it was important, for hopefully obvious reasons, to have Fernando not be part such an blatantly immoral community in my story. So I thought Fernando's interactions with Greta would be a good reason for Fernando not to join that group, which he obviously had in canon. Also, I believe it is sketchy that nobody on the show condemned that illegal and unethical internet group during the season finale, just because that group was helping Team Bartowski when they were formally introduced in the season finale. I didn't want to make the same mistake here. Filming people without their consent, especially for sexual gratification or stalking purposes, is bad. I would hope that would be obvious in this day and age, but I wanted to make my stance on this issue clear.
> 
> Thanks again for reading! Until next time, just remember...
> 
> Some Like It Fat


	4. Greta Versus the Blown Cover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greta decides to try a different tactic for interacting with Fernando, leading to some unexpected results.Meanwhile, Jeff and Lester's suspicions continue to cause problems for Greta. Will the jeffster duo's actions lead to Greta's termination from the Buy More?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains a heavily modified version of "The Cage" scene from the episode, "Chuck Versus the Fear of Death". I'm pretty sure at least one of my readers has been waiting for this moment. I sure have. So here it is! I hope all my readers enjoy how I resolved that particular scene in my story, the original version of which can easily be found on Youtube.
> 
> This is a small spoiler, but anyone who may have been waiting patiently for "Greta" to start gaining weight should find this chapter interesting....

GRETA'S POV...

CRUNCH! CRUNCH! “Mmmm. So Good!” 

My eyes fly open as sounds and a voice awaken me. It takes me approximately three seconds to realize that what I'm hearing is a person talking to themselves as they are eating food from my kitchen. By that time, however, I have already gotten out of bed, taken my gun out of my bedside table, and released the safety. 

I quickly walk towards the kitchen in my underwear. I know that I am prepared for anything that I might find when I get there, be it a druggie trying to binge while high, or a desperate homeless person who just needs some food. But when I finally reach the kitchen after walking for almost a minute (where the hallways in my apartment always this long?), I find that I'm not prepared for the sight that greats me after all.

A brunette, enormously fat (over 400 pounds, by my estimate) woman is standing in the middle of my kitchen. Naked. My eyes widen as the fat women's twin basketball sized ass cheeks (which are completely covered in cellulite), several rolls of thick back fat, and blubbery arms and legs all jiggle in unison while the intruder moans with pleasure and continues eating, seemingly heedless of my presence in the room.

“Damn! This food is so good! Why did you deny yourself all of this for so long!?”

I'm about to open my mouth to demand an explanation for the intruder's presence, but my eyes are suddenly drawn to all of the empty bottles, boxes and bags that litter my kitchen floor, which have labels such as Yoohoo, Krispy Kreme, and Burger King written on them. All of those food brands are childhood favorites of mine, but I haven't touched any food items from those companies in years, and I certainly don't remember buying any junk food to keep in this apartment. Ever.

My suspicions that things are not as they appear to be deepen when I smell a dish that I haven't smelled, much less bought, in years. But it's a smell I could never forget. Pepperoni, sausage and pineapple (my late family's favorite) pizza from a little shop near the neighborhood I grew up in, right here in Burbank. However, it's what I hear next, from a familiar voice, that lets me know for sure that something very strange is going on.

“Yeah, trust me, this pizza is even better than you remember! Or should I say....” 

The naked fat women turns around with a smile on her large, double chinned, chubby cheeked face, allowing me to see her enormous, dropping breasts, and her stretchmarks-covered belly, love handles, and the front of her cellulite-covered thunder thighs. I gasp as I look at the hazel-eyed woman in front of me, and I feel like I'm staring at a fun house mirror while my naked, slightly older looking, enormously fat doppelganger continues speaking. “Better than we remembered!?”

I open my mouth to speak again, but “fat me” beats me to the punch as she speaks in between bites of pizza. “Yes...mmm...this is a ...dream. But that doesn't mean....yum! That it's not real, too! Just listen. You're going...Oh yeah, this pizza's good! You're going to be going through some changes...mmm hmm! Soon! And you'll be a whole lot happier...mmm! If you don't fight it.”

I frown at that, but even as the obvious question leaves my lips, the answer somehow pops into my head at the same moment. “What changes?!”

UUUURP! Fat me smiles enigmatically after belching, slowly eats the last bite of pizza (as evidenced by the empty pizza box on the kitchen table) then says. “You're going to get fat, of course!”

I shake my head. “No...I'm in excellent shape, and I wouldn't let myself get fat!”

Fat me shakes her head and rolls her eyes. “Damn! Was I this stubborn and oblivious when I was on the other side of this dream?! Obviously, I must have been....'

Now I'm really confused. “What are you...”

“Talking about?” My fat self finishes my though with a smug look on her face. “Did I forget to mention? I'm future you! You're past me. Got it?!” I shake my head, but 'fat me keeps talking, seemingly oblivious to my confusion. “ And I don't know how, but I'm now remembering having this dream, when I was you, quite vividly!”

I scoff at that. “No way! You can't be...”

“My future self?” Fat me finishes for me. “I assure you, I am. I know everything you're about to try to say!”

“No....”

“Way!” Fat me is still grinning smugly.

“This is just a...”

“Freaky dream?”

“I'm not...”

“Going to get obscenely fat?” Fat me frowns at that. “There's nothing obscene about being fat! In fact, in time, you'll realize that being enormously fat is something you've always wanted!”

I shake my head, and I'm feeling scared now, even as I keep starting sentences that fat me finishes. “No way, I want to be...” “Skinny and fit.” “I have...” “Complete control of my appetite.” I will...” Always be thin!” 

By this point, I start to get desperate, even as fat me starts to laugh while purposely jiggling her belly at the same time, so I start trying to say every childish, ridiculous thing I can think of to prove fat me wrong about knowing what I'm trying to say, in order to prove she's not my future self. But each time I speak now, fat me says the words on my mind at the exact same moment I do.“She sells seashells by the seashore. Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers, how many pickled peppers did Peter Piper pick? I am the Walrus! Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!” My eyes widen as fat me laughs at that one, then adds. “You weren't about to say this, but we still love that film in the future! Look at me...”Some sort of glowing item appears in fat me's hand, and it lifts her off the ground a couple feet somehow as she says in a Southern accent. “I'm Marry Poppins, y'all!”

After looking at the (probably confused) expression on my face, fat me sighs, floats back down to the ground, and speaks as the glowing item vanishes. “Don't worry, you'll get that reference later.”

I frown and shake my head. “Whatever! None of this matters! If this is a dream, you're just a figment of my imagination! So it makes sense that you can read my mind if you're part of it! That doesn't prove that you're from the future!”

Fat me's smile widens. “Oh, but what I'm about to tell you will! Fernando is going to get back together with you, with us, tomorrow! I won't tell you how, it's a surprise! Just know that Fernando and you, or is it Fernando and me....” Fat me shrugs, then chuckles. “ We are going to have a very happy, very fattening life together! So don't worry when you start packing on the pounds. Just keep eating!”

The gun in my hand, which I have been holding to my side during this entire bizarre conversation, suddenly turns into a slice of the same kind of delicious pizza fat me has just been eating, and I lose control of my body for a moment as my hand lifts the slice of pizza to my mouth without my conscious input. I moan as I taste the pepperoni, which is just slightly burnt on the sides, exactly how I like it, spicy sausage, and citrusy pineapple, mixed with crispy crust and four types of cheese. In that moment, I have to admit that fat me was right. This pizza is even better than I remember!

Fat me laughs as I greedily take another bite of pizza, and it just barely registers in my mind that I now have full control of my “hands” again, and I am now consciously choosing to keep lifting the pizza towards my mouth so I can keep eating more of it. . “That's right! Give into your cravings, you painfully thin version of me! Our relationship with Fernando will be so much happier once we decide to eat ourselves large!” 

Fat me then takes my free hand, and places it on her fat, warm, and squishy belly. Even as I continue eating the delicious pizza from my childhood, I allow my hand to rub fat Sandra's belly. And it feels good. Really good. Just as good as rubbing Fernando's fat belly feels.

But then something strange happens while my eyes are closed as I moan with pleasure again while eating. I suddenly feel like it's my own belly that my hand is rubbing. When I open my eyes, I'm all alone in the kitchen. Naked. And I'm really fat. Just as fat as fat me!

I scream as as I jiggle the fat belly in front of me, causing my now massive boobs and two chins to shake as well, even as some traitorous part of me thinks, “This feels nice! Being fat feels pretty good!' Then another voice, my own, but slightly deeper, the voice of fat me, echoes throughout the kitchen “That's it, Sandra! Give into the fat side!”

…...

I wake up screaming.. As I pant and sweat alone in my bed, I wonder, 'What the hell was that!?' Even as I silently note that my hand are now resting on my trim stomach for some reason. I shake my head and tell myself. 'Don't worry! It was just a dream! Another weird one, like the one a week ago! It means nothing!'

My name is Sandra. But most people call me Greta. And I WILL NOT get fat!

 

I keep telling myself this as I get ready for my day, go for my morning jog, then take a shower at the secret Buy More agent showering area before clocking in for “work” at the Buy More. I don't eat breakfast before I start my shift, or eat lunch at my break, because my stomach is in knots right now, and not just because of last night's dream. I'm still feeling anxious about my precarious position with Fernando after yesterday evening. Part of me is angry with Fernando for not understanding that I only spied on him before we dated to make sure he was a good, single guy. That I was only trying to protect myself by making sure Fernando was nothing like Frank, the “single guy” I had dated who turned out to be a married father of two. But another part of me feels guilty for spying on Fernando, especially that night at the warehouse, even though that “incident” was unintentional on my part. But the largest part of me just wants Fernando to be back in my arms again. 

However, because I still have some pride, dignity and respect left, I didn't call Fernando before my shift, or during my lunch break, and I am resolved not to try to contact the fat man I love before he talks to me first. I've already gone way out of my comfort zone by going to Fernando with my heart in my hand, and telling the delightfully tubby man that I loved him, and I even apologized to him (something I almost never do) for the actions I've taken to keep both Fernando and myself safe. I will not be apologizing for trying to keep Fernando safe again. So as bad as I want Fernando back, I hold onto my pride as I resolve to give Fernando the space he asked for. If the man I love wants me back, he's going to have to take the initiative this time.

But that doesn't mean I like leaving Fernando alone.

With all of these different thoughts and negative emotions running through me, and the dream I had last night still on my mind, I can't think about food today without feeling nauseous. I even spend my lunch break outside, sipping a Diet Coke, because the smell of all the food in the break room made me want to throw up. Perhaps this is the reason that what happens shortly before my shift ends irritates me beyond all reason.

I'm just an hour from completing my “light duties” shift at the Buy More (which is just as boring as normal Buy More “work”), by delivering some paperwork to Morgan Grimes when I hear an annoying voice start speaking over the store intercom. “Greta to the cage. Greta to the cage, please. Greta, to the cage. A delicious though complicated foot long sub with black forest ham....”

I drop the paperwork on a nearby table as my hands ball into fists, and another wave of nausea hits my stomach as I mentally screen out the rest of Lester's words while I quickly walk towards the area in the back of the store employees refer to as “The cage.” Even so, a dark part of me is almost jubilant at the opportunity Lester has just presented me to blow off some steam. 'I warned you to stay away from me, Lester!' I think to myself. 'And I gave Morgan every opportunity to get you and Jeff off my back. Now, I'm going to get rid of you my way, Lester, as promised!'

Even so, another part of me feels almost guilty for what I'm about to do when I enter the Cage. After all, Lester, and his accomplice, Jeff (I should have known that chubby pain in the ass would be in one this!), are a far cry from the terrorists, rogue agents, and other killers that I've terminated in the past. But I find that I'm too busy seeing red, due to my anger over the weeks that Jeffster has been stalking me, to care if the annoying duo in front of me truly deserve to die. And as I put an annoyed scowl on my face and mildly glare at Lester, who is sitting at a desk with his back to me, and Jeff, who is looking right at me, I rationalize to myself that these two know, or at least, suspect, too much about my government-related activities to live. Besides, Casey can easily scrub the camera footage of the blood bath that is about to follow, and a clean-up crew should have everything in the Cage spic and spam within half an hour after this is over.

These are the thoughts that are passing through my mind when Lester, with his hands on the back of his head making him look every bit like the arrogant twit he is, says. “So I see our little lure worked, eh, Greta? If that is your name.”

Lester stands up and turns to me. “Come on. Sit.”

I decide to play along for now, and start to walk towards the chair Lester points to, as I regain just a little bit of my composure and start to think more rationally. I know that Casey and Morgan would both want me to find a non-violent way to alleviate Jeff and Lester's suspicions, and that Jeff and Lester are (kind of).Fernando's friends, so the fat man I love probably wouldn't want me to kill them. But I quickly start losing my cool again when Jeff shines the desk light right at my face, hurting my eyes a little. I quickly turn the desk light away from my face, then glare at Jeff. “What the hell are you doing, moron?!”

“Listen to me.” Lester tries to look tough by putting his foot on the chair behind the desk, but the resulting pose from the skinny man, who doesn't seem to have an ounce of muscle on him, just looks comical. Under different circumstances, I would be laughing at Lester's lame attempt to look macho, but I'm far to pissed off for that right now. And my anger only intensifies as Jeff shuts the gate to the cage behind me. Apparently, the annoying chubby man is unaware that he has just attempted to lock a tiger, not a mouse, in a cage. Lester speaks in a smug tone that doesn't suite him at all. “We can do this this the hard way, or we can do this the way that's...very difficult.”

It's at this point that Morgan Grimes, the manager at the Buy More, enters the room and goes into the cage. “Wow! Wow! Stop! Guys! Greta, guys, quit this now!” 

But I barely register the sound of this safe house's civilian liaison's voice as my blood starts to boil after Lester starts screaming in my face. “No! You know what? I have had it! This stops here and now! Who are you, Greta? And what do you know?!”

I'm just about to pull my knife out of the hidden pocket in my skirt when a calmer voice breaks through the red mist clouding my thoughts, causing me to put my hand back down to my side. “Looks like our cover is blown, Greta, I think we should just tell everyone what we've been up to before this gets out of hand.”

I smile as Fernando, who I know very well, based on the employees work schedule, doesn't have a shift at the Buy More today, as he enters the Cage holding a bouquet of red roses in his right hand. But the looks on Morgan's, Jeff's, and Lester's faces all indicate that they are just as confused as I am by Fernando's presence in the Cage, even as Morgan gulps and says, “Excuse me. What do you mean? What have you and Greta been up to?”

Jeff and Lester simultaneously glare at the fat man I love while Lester adds. “Yeah, Fer-nan-do.” The dark-haired man stresses each syllable of Fernando's name as he says. “What, exactly, have Fernando the prude, and little miss suspicious, been up to!?”

I give Fernando a reassuring smile to let him know I'll follow his lead on this, even as I silently wonder why Lester is calling Fernando, of all people, a prude. But I completely forget to ask about this a few seconds later, when Fernando gulps and says in a nervous voice. “You know...that you keep dissapearing because you keep looking for out of the way places that you and I can hide and, you know, make out and stuff while on the clock. Sorry about that Mr. Grimes. I know we aren't supposed to do stuff like that on company time, and I never thought my girlfriend and I making out sometimes at work would cause this much trouble, but well, just look at Greta! Can you really blame me?!”

I roll my eyes as all four men in the room look my body over, but I give Fernando a half smile to let him know I appreciate his efforts to help me cover up my spy activities, and that I don't mind it when he checks me out, before Morgan gulps and says, “Point taken.” The store manager looks at me, then Fernando, and even Colonel John Casey, who has just entered the room, then adds in a mock angry voice. “Well, I'm very disappointed in both of you, Fernando and Greta! No more making out and...other stuff while on the clock, do you hear me? This is your only warning!”

Fernando and I both try to look appropriately chastised as we hang our heads and say, at the exact same time. “I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again.”

Jeff nods his head. “Oh, so that's what was going on.” But Lester isn't so easily deterred

The exotic man with dark hair shakes his head and points at me. “No, that can't be all that's been going on with Greta! She started her little dissapearing act before Fernando asked her out!”

Jeff scratches his head. “Oh yeah! That's right! What were you up to before, Greta!?”

Fernando and Morgan frown, apparently not having an answer to that question, and Casey is just smirking at my current predicament. Luckily, I'm pretty good at thinking on my feet, and I quickly come up with an explanation for my earlier disappearances as I smile and say. “That's because Fernando and I were secretly 'friends with benefits' before we both decided, around the same time, that we wanted a relationship upgrade and started dating for real.”

Fernando smiles back at me. “Yeah, I was nervous about asking her out on a real date, because I was afraid Greta wouldn't want to be seen in public with a bigger guy, but then she asked me out, and now she's my girlfriend!”

Lester shakes his head with a doubtful expression on his face. “But that still doesn't explain why...”

Casey finally intervenes and says. “Haven't you uncovered enough of Greta and Fernando's personal business by sticking your nose where is doesn't belong, Lester? Two employees were sneaking around to be alone together on company time, you and Jeff got them caught. End of story.”

Casey glares at both Lester and Jeff, causing the chubbier, balder half of Jeffster to gulp and say. “Maybe we should just drop it, Lester. I think we've done enough mystery solving for a while.”

Lester shakes his head and points first to me, then to Fernando. “But you two don't always dissapear at the same...”

But it's Morgan who comes to the rescue this time and says. “Lester! Jeff! You've done very well helping root out two employees who were using company time for personal matters. How would you two like to be employees of the month?!”

Lester smiles at that. “Well, my picture would look pretty good on a plague...”

Jeff nods. “Yeah! And I've never been employee of the month before...”

Morgan claps his hands, then leads the Jeffster duo away by placing one hand on either man's back and gently pushing them out of the room while saying. “Right this way to have your pictures taken for your well deserved awards, gentlemen...”

After Morgan and Lester leave, Casey allows himself another smirk. “I never thought either of those two would make employee of the month. I guess anything really is possible if you're lucky enough.. Hey, Greta, I need to talk to you for a second. Alone.”

Fernando opens his mouth to protest, but I can tell from the serious look in the Colonel's eyes that he wants to discuss official spy business, so I turn to my boyfri...Fernando, then walk over to the fat man, and whisper. “It's okay, Fernando. I'll see you at the end of my shift, okay?”

Fernando nods, hands me the bouquet of flowers, says, “these are for you”, then leaves the room. Casey briefly watches Fernando leave with a suspicious look on his face, then turns to me and gestures to the chair in front of the desk in the cage. “Sit.” 

I do as the Colonel says, but I pick up the sandwich Jeffster was trying to use as bait to trap me and take a bite, since I like pissing Casey off, in little ways that are unlikely to get me fired, sometimes. Furthermore, I suddenly feel ravenously hungry. I don't give my hunger much thought, however, as take a bite from the sub and stifle a moan as Casey glares at me and says. “Pretty slick trick you pulled their, Greta. But even for a seduction specialist/close combat assassin like you, this is a cold move..Convincing that chunkster that you're his girlfriend, just so you can you use him as an alibi for your disappearances..”

I glare right back at Casey as I reply after finishing my first bite of the sub. “That part wasn't an act. Fernando is my boyfriend. And I'm going to have to ask you not to refer to him as a chunkster, sir.”

Casey grunts at me, and I grunt right back. The Colonel then continues glaring at me for several seconds before he replies. “Fine. I believe you. I just think it's weird that...never mind After that little display of teamwork cover up though, I have to ask: How much about our work...our real work, does Fernando know?”

I shrug at Casey, and I tell a few half-truths, and some outright lies, to keep both Fernando and me out of trouble. “Fernando is pretty smart, so he suspects some things are out of ordinary at the Buy More, but I...convinced him to stop digging into things he shouldn't, and he, apparently, is pretty good at helping me make cover stories. You don't need to worry about Fernando, I have him wrapped around my finger, sir.”

Casey scoffs as I eat another bite of my sandwich. “From where I'm standing, it looks like it's the other way around. The camera doesn't lie, Greta. I saw that you were about to pull a knife on Jeff and Lester before Fernando stopped you...”

My eyes widen as I swallow my second bite of ham, jalapenos, and numerous other toppings in a large gulp, then say. “I can explain that, sir...”

Casey shakes his head. “Save it! I don' want to hear any of your excuses! We don't use deadly force against innocent civilians, no matter how annoying they are, ever! Do you understand me, Greta?!”

I sigh. “Yes, sir.”

Casey half smiles. “Good. However, according to your file, you experienced some psychological trauma, as well as a physical injury, on your last assignment. For that reason, and because you're friends with Agent Walker, who will give me hell for a long time if I let you go from this safe house, which means Bartowski probably will too, I'm going to let you off with a warning this time. Your boyfriend having a cooler head than you in this situation and stopping you from pulling that knife just saved you from getting fired. But if you're sloppy enough to get caught going in or out of Castle by civilians again,, or if you attempt to use deadly force when it's not warranted, I will have you escorted off of the premises and recommend that the CIA director fire your ass. Am I being clear, Greta?”

I glare at Casey, but speak in the most respectful tone I can manage at the moment. “Crystal, sir. May I finish my shift, and my sandwich, now, sir?”

Casey shakes his head and gives me a strange look. “No. To the finishing your shift part. I don't care what you do with that sandwich. I'm going to give you some time to cool off, Greta. I'll tell Morgan that I sent you home early and take care of your remaining assignments for the day myself. I'll see you in two days time at 0900 hours. Until then, you are dismissed, agent!”

“Thank you, sir.” I nod my head, take another bite of my sub, then start walking out of the Cage towards the door out of the room before Casey asks, “Do you really like him?”

It doesn't take me long to deduce that Casey is talking about Fernando, and by the time I've turned towards the Colonel and finished my sandwich bite, the answer is on the tip of my tongue. And as much as I want to tell Casey my feelings for Fernando are none of his business, I answer honestly, since I know I”m already on thin ice with the Colonel. “Yes.”

Casey nods his head, apparently taking my answer at face value, despite the flat tone of voice it was delivered in, and the stoic look I've put on my face. The man then frowns and says. “Don't let it become a problem.”

I nod right back and say. “If dating Fernando interferes with my position in the CIA, I'll end it.” I'm actually not sure if I ever could bring myself to leave Fernando again, but Casey doesn't need to know that. The Colonel nods at my words and says, “good”, as I exit the room, sandwich in one hand and the red roses Fernando gave me in the other. 

It takes me a few minutes to put the red roses in a pot of water in my work area, then find Fernando in the Buy More parking lot, and in that short amount of time, I somehow finish the black forest ham sandwich However, since I'm not used to eating so fast, I am feeling a little bit gassy when I spot Fernando waiting for me in front of a taxi cab. I wave to the fat man, and I open my mouth to say hello to him, but something happens before I can get a word out. A fantastic amount of gas builds up in my abdomen,and after a moment of pain and rumbling in my tiny stomach, this gas escapes in two directions at once. The upshot of which is...

BUUUUUURP! POOOOOT!

I loudly belch and fart at the same time! Thankfully, during that embarrassing moment, a large van playing loud music passes between me and Fernando in the parking lot, so my (potential) boyfriend doesn't see, hear, or smell the effects of my concussive eructation or gaseous discharge. A petite blonde woman walking behind me isn't so lucky, and the tiny woman glares at me while holding her nose and quickly walks in another direction a moment later. Still, despite the embarrassment I feel because of my gaseous emissions, and that my cheeks are probably burning now, a part of me thinks, “Wow! That felt really good!' I push this deviant thought aside as I self-consciously rub my trim stomach, and a rational part of me reminds myself that there's a reason I haven't burped or farted since I was twelve. But still, something about my body just letting go of all that gas felt good. Like, really good. Like, there is just a little bit of heat pulling between my legs now, good. And I'm still not sure whether the red on my cheeks is being caused by embarrassment, arousal, or both....

But then Fernando runs...No. Fernando half jogs, half waddles, over to me. And I cannot tell why it arouses me so much that Fernando is gasping for air and sweating from walking fast from just a few yards away, but it does. I mentally roll my eyes at myself. 'Great. We'll just add a lack of physical fitness to the growing list of kinks you have.' And then my mind drifts to the image of 'fat me', from my dream last night, and I idly wonder if it would be just as hard for me to jog across the Buy More parking lot, or if I would even be able to jog that far, if I were that fat in real life. I mentally kick myself when, under my bra, my nipples start to harden.

Fernando breaks me out of my thoughts when he finally manages to speak between loud breaths. “Hey..huff...Greta. Morgan...puff...told me...That he let you off work early, and I thought you and I should talk.” By this point Fernando has caught his breath, and he is able to speak in a normal tone of voice, but he is still sweating like a pig. A manly, sexy pig. So naturally, I find it hard to concentrate on what the fat man is saying as my eyes follow a singe bead of sweat going down Fernando's forehead, inching past his plump cheek, then falling off of the man's two chins..I also try and fail not to stare at Fernando's body, especially Fernando's sweat-stained belly and small moobs. So I only catch the tail end of Fernando's words for me at that moment. “So, basically, I realized, this morning, that I overreacted to...well, you invading my privacy, ever so slightly, to protect yourself. I'm sorry about that, and I was thinking that, if you were still willing to, I mean...” Fernando sighs heavily. “Greta, would you like to be my girlfriend?”

I smile at the large man, then slowly inch my face towards his, but stop just short of the handsome fat man's lips. “Okay. But I won't ever beg for you to stay with me again, Fernando. I do have some pride, after all.”

Fernando whispers. “Of course. I wouldn't ever ask you to do that.”

I smile sadly as I whisper back. “ Good. You should also know that, though I won't lie to you about my work again, I won't always be able to tell you the whole truth about where I go, or what I do.”

Fernando nods. “I figured as much.”

I gulp, with my lips still inches from Fernando's, as I whisper even quieter “And even though I'll do my best to respect your privacy, I can't guarantee that I won't watch you without your consent again, if I ever think reconnaissance is necessary to keep you safe.”

Fernando just smirks at that. “Well then, how about I just give you consent to watch me whenever you want? You're my girlfriend now. As far as I'm concerned, you have staring privileges!”

I laugh at that, then speak in a slightly louder volume. “If you're a good boy, I might just extend you the same privilege!” I start to pull Fernando into a deep kiss, while squeezing both of Fernando's love handles, as I think to myself, 'Hell, I wouldn't mind Fernando being a bit of a bad boy, as long as he's only bad with me!'

But then a car horn honks loudly, ruining me and Fernando's fun by reminding the fat man and me that we are still standing in the middle of a parking lot. Fernando and I quickly quickly walk towards the waiting cab, allowing the balding man who honked at us to exit the parking lot in his red sports car...but not before the man flips me and my new boyfriend off and yells out the window. “Get a room, you idiots!”

I glare at the sports car for the several seconds it takes for it to speed out of view, but Fernando taps me on the shoulder and smiles at me. “Forget him. We just got back together. Today is a good day, and we should celebrate!”

I smile at Fernando as we both climb into the cab (although I get in first while Fernando holds my door open) while saying. “ Agreed, especially after that save of yours at work today.”

Fernando shrugged. “That was nothing. You would have done the same thing for me if I were in trouble.”

I nod at that. “True. But that doesn't change the fact that this is the third time you've saved my ass since I've met you! And I'm not going to lie, I've really missed you this last week so....”

I give Fernando my best seductive pout and whisper in his ear. “Why don't we do what the jerk in the sports car suggested, and get a room? My bed is so much warmer when you're in it with me, Fernando.”

Fernando gulps, then opens his mouth to say something, but the fat man's words are pre-empted by a loud, rumbling sound coming from his stomach. I smile at the audible evidence of Fernando's large appetite for a moment, just before my own stomach rumbles as well. Fernando and I are both blushing as I realize that my decision not to eat this morning, or most of this afternoon, is still catching up to me, and that burping and farting after gobbling down that sub has freed up more empty space in my ravenous tummy. I laugh and say, “Looks like we're both hungry right now, though! Let's get something to eat first, then move on to satisfying a different kind of appetite. Since you helped me today, I'll pay for whatever you pick for us to eat...within reason.”

Fernando shakes his head. “No, you payed for our last date, even if it was with a favor, and it's my turn to pay...”

The cab driver in the front seat clears his throat. “Sir? Ma'am? I could sit here all day if you want, but the meter is still running,so...do you want to go somewhere or not?!”

I decide to quickly take control of the situation. “Fine, you can pay for dinner this time, Fernando. But I'll make sure to pick a place that doesn't break your bank.” I quickly turn towards the cabbie, rattle off an address that I memorized a long time ago, for a location that I haven't been to in years, and I smirk at Fernando as our vehicle takes off into traffic.”Good think I ran to work today! Fernando, I told the driver to take us to the best pizza joint in Burbank! The pizzas there aren't quite as big as Greasy Pete's, but trust me, they taste a lot better!”

I frown then, as I suddenly remember I got Fernando a pizza yesterday. “Of course, If you had enough pizza yesterday, we could pick up something else instead. I'm just really craving pizza right now for some reason. Maybe because I didn't have any last night.”

My frown becomes more pronounced as I realize that I really have been craving my late family's favorite pizza since shortly after Fernando covered for me in the cage, but Fernando doesn't seem to pick up on my confusion when he smiles and says. “Are you kidding me? I could never have too much pizza! Besides, if there is a better pizza place in this town that Greasy Pete's, I definitely want to know about it!”

After we pick up a large pepperoni, sausage, and pineapple pizza (after approving the topping choices with Fernando) from my favorite childhood restaurant, I realize that the pizza, while not as big as a Greasy Pete's family size pie, is still quite large. Bigger than I remember it, in fact. So right after I hand Fernando the twenty dollar bills he wouldn't accept last night and whisper. “Pay out of this! It's your money, and you're buying me something I want with it, so don't argue!” I turn to the elderly cashier and say. “My family used to get pizza here all the time when I was growing up, but I don't remember the pizzas being this big. Did the menu change?”

The old man behind the counter laughs as Fernando pays for the pizza, and the man with a name tag proclaiming his name is “Robert” shakes his head. “The menu here has been the same for fifty years! We just needed to make all of our portion sizes bigger over the last five years or so to keep up with the competition!” The old man risks a sideways glance at my fat boyfriend, who is currently looking down while putting his change, and the rest of the money I gave him, into his wallet, and the old man whispers. “People like to eat a lot more these days!”

I laugh at that, and without thinking, I gently pat Fernando's large belly. “There's nothing wrong with that! Thanks for the pizza! I'm sure my boyfriend and I will love it!”

After we get back in the cab, Fernando turns to me and says. “What was that about, patting my belly in front of the cashier?”

I quickly give the cab driver my home address, then smirk at Fernando and say in the most innocent voice I can manage. “I'm sorry, Fernando, but you, and your belly, are just so hot, I couldn't help myself! I can't keep my hands to myself around you.”

I then quickly pull Fernando into a deep kiss, putting one hand on Fernando's squishy ass, and one on one of the man's love handles. I can tell that Fernando had been “pre-gaming” before meeting me at the Buy More and ordering pizza, since Fernando's mouth taste a little bit like burgers and fries, and that thought makes me moan a little. I'm just about to start nibbling on Fernando's bottom lip when...

BZZZZT! BZZZZZT!BZZZZZT!

“Fuck!” Fernando quickly draws away from me and shoots me an apologetic look. “I completely forgot that my mom just got put on a new medication, and I need to give her a dose in fifteen minutes! We need to go to my place and do that first! It could be a matter of life and death!”

I sigh and nod as Fernando quickly rattles of his address, and tells the cabbie to go there instead. After my fat boyfriend tells the driver about the change, I cross my arms and pout a little. “ I know this is important, but you do know the pizza's going to be cold before we do that, and drive back to my place, right? And...” I whisper in Fernando's ear. “I want you as soon as possible!”

Fernando sighs. “I know, I'm sorry. I want...that, too! But I need to make sure my mom gets her meds, or she could die! We'll hurry to your place right afterwards, I promise!”

“Or....” I smile as I rub my hand up and down Fernando's right thigh. “We could just have dinner in bed at your place!”

I smirk as Fernando blushes, and I say, “As soon as you're done with that other important business, of course.”

Fernando gulps. “My mom...”

I roll my eyes. “Fernando, you're a grown man. You can decide who sleeps in your room without your mother's input!”

Fernando shakes his head. “You don't understand. My mom wouldn't have a problem with the two of us sleeping together. In fact, she'd probably be a little bit...too excited for us, and not stop talking about it for days. My mom is a bit..”

“Uninhibited?” I laugh as Fernando nods. “I noticed that when I talked to here last night. You're mom's a little out there, but she's cool. She certainly seems a lot more laid back about your love life than my parents would have been.”

Fernando chuckles nervously. “What, are your parents prudes or something?”

I sigh heavily and look down, away from Fernando's eyes. “Let's just say they were...protective, of me. But now I see that was only because they loved me so much.”

Fernando's eyes widen. “Were? Loved? Are you saying your parents are de...”

I shake my head, and glare at Fernando slightly “I don't want to talk about it.”

Fernando accepts my words with a nod“Never mind. We don't have to talk about your family if you don't want to, okay? I'm sorry if I said anything offensive.”

I shake my head, then force a smile. “It's okay. There's no way you could have known. “ I hold Fernando's hand for a long, silent moment, then say. “But I am really hungry, and I have missed you a lot these past eight days, so can we please...”

Fernando nods at me and smiles. “Of course you can stay at my place tonight, if that's what you really want.”

I let the smile on my face widen. “Thank you. I'll sneak into your room with the pizza while you're helping your mom, and I'll sneak out again in the morning, so she won't embarrass you later.” I chuckle. “It'll be like being in high school all over again!”

We both laugh then, and the mood in the cab is a lot lighter when we pull into Fernando's driveway. I'm glad I gave Fernando his money back from our last date, because the cab has run up quite a meter today, but Fernando is able to pay with some twenties. A moment later, Fernando and I enter the house through the front door (because I am not climbing through a second story window unless my job, or someone's safety, requires it), and Fernando goes to give his mom her meds while I sneak in Fernando's room with the pizza. 

By the time Fernando arrives back in the room, I'm under the covers of his bed. But as soon as Fernando closes the door I quickly pull the covers off, revealing that I am now naked on my boyfriend's bed. Fernando's jaw drops as he wordlessly walks in my direction, but I gently swat the fat man's hand away when he tries to touch my nude form, then grin mischievously. “Uh uh. Not just yet. Since you shot me down last night, I'm going to make you work towards the main event this time. Strip.”

Fernando pulls his hands away, then blushes like crazy as he does what I ask. The man quickly manages to take off his shoes and shirt, and I have to stifle a gasp at how much FATTER Fernando has grown in the last eight days as I think to myself. 'Holy Shit! I don't know what you've been eating to gain weight that quick, but it looks damn good on you, Fernando!” 

Fernando has a little more trouble with his pants though, as his hands are trembling like crazy after he unbuckles his belt, and he has trouble taking off said belt or unbuttoning his pants. I take pity on the red faced FAT (I still love that word, especially right now) man in front of me. “Here, let me help.” With a sigh, I quickly take off Fernando's belt and unbutton and unzip his pants. 

Fernando then quickly takes off his pants as his blush intensifies. “Thanks, Greta.”

I frown and shake my head. “In private, call me Sandra. Unlike some other agents...” I'm thinking of Sarah now, “I don't think of my spy name as my real one. Being an agent is something I do. It's not who I am.”

Fernando smiles widely at me. “OK Thanks, Sandra.'

I lick my lips at Fernando's naked form. “You are most welcome, sir. Yum. Fuck. You said you've gained, what, ten pounds since I've last seen you naked?”

Fernando starts blushing again. “ I actually lied before, because I was embarrassed. I've gained fifteen pounds. I um...I eat like a pig when I'm depressed.”

I frown at that. “Like I said before, I'm sorry that I hurt you, Fernando. But still....”

I grin again as I rub Fernando's naked stomach, as well as his enlarged chest, while I try not to think about last night's dream, or how it it would feel to be fat myself. “I'm glad that you've been a good fat boy, eating so much sinfully delicious food that you became even bigger and sexier!” Fernando tries to pull away when my hands reach his recently acquired small moobs, but I gently squeeze my boyfriend's chest before he can pull away,give the fat man a reassuring smile, and say. “Because I love every inch of you.”

Fernando smiles at my words, and doesn't pull away from my touch anymore, but I frown as I pull my hands away from Fernando and say. “There's just one problem.”

Fernando looks at me intently. “What's that?”

I smile wickedly at my boyfriend. “You're not fully undressed yet! And as much as I love Star Wars...” I point to the fat man's Star Wars themed underwear (which have Princess Leia on them) and socks and add. “Those have to go!”

Fernando blushes yet again, then quickly takes off his underwear and socks. It takes every ounce of willpower I have not to look down past Fernando's stomach after that, or to keep myself from pouncing on my boyfriend after an unbearingly long eight days without sex, but somehow, I manage. I then grab the pizza box off of Fernando's desk, and quickly open it while saying, “Now, time for a naked lunch. Or dinner. Whatever.”.After taking a moment to admire and smell the delicious pepperoni, sausage, and pineapple pizza I ordered, which is miraculously still hot, I quickly take a slice out of the box and start hand feeding the pizza to Fernando, like I did with the pizza last night,

Fernando quickly sits next to me on the bed to make this task easier for me, and rub Fernando's stomach as I hand feed him. I smile as Fernando moans between bites and says, “This is good pizza!” The only thing that keeps me from openly grinning is that I can feel that Fernando's stomach is already a little hard at the beginning of the meal. And sure enough, my fat boyfriend's stomach is as taut as a drum after finishing only three large slices of the twelve slice pizza.

UUUURP! PFOOOOT1

I just laugh and keep rubbing Fernando's large gut after my fat boyfriend burps and farts. I resist the urge to hold my nose due to the stench that is now in the air, then I give the man I love an encouraging smile and shrug. “Better out than in, right!?”

Fernando blushes (presumably due to me referring to his gaseous emissions, even in an encouraging way) and he shakes his head as I offer him a fourth slice. “I'm so sorry! This is really good pizza, maybe even better than Greasy Pete's, but I just can't eat anymore! I had a really big lunch!”

My own stomach growls again, reminding me that I haven't eaten anything besides one sandwich all day, and I smile easily and shrug as I say. “All of that is okay. Besides, I'm still hungry, so I'm glad you saved some pizza for me.” Fernando laughs at that as I take a bite out of the pizza slice in my hand and moan with pleasure at the combination of sweet and savory flavors barraging my taste buds, and for a moment I think to myself. 'Dream or not, fat me was right! This pizza does taste even better than I remember it!' Then, between bites of the delicious pizza, I talk to Fernando as I continuously rub my boyfriend's blubbery belly with my free hand. “So, Fernando, you said you had a big lunch. What did you eat today?”

Fernando blushes again, but he replies in between his own moans of pleasure, resulting as much, I hope, from my belly rubs as the food in his stomach. “Well, um. I only had some waffles and eggs for breakfast, instead of...what I usually have, because I was so nervous about asking you to take me back today. But my hunger overtook me around noon, so I went to a fast food place and ordered two large combos. With the steak fries, not the skinny ones. One combo came with chicken strips, another with a triple burger with everything on it. Oh, and I had a large milkshake. And a taco. And a small chocolate pie.”

I insert part of my thumb into Fernando's belly button, then squeeze the large section of fat and flesh in between Fernando's navel and his crotch softly between the fingers of my free hand while whispering seductively into Fernando's ear. “Good fat boy. I know how much you love to eat! Did you 'eat like a pig', as you yourself put it, in the restaurant?”

Fernando shook his head. “No. I went through the drive thru, then ate at home. I don't like to eat a lot in public because I'm...”

“Because you're fat?” I ask matter of factly. I keep using this word because I really want to get Fernando thinking about his size in a positive light.

Fernando sighs. “Because I'm very fat. I hate the judgmental stares I get when I eat in public. The jokes at my expense. The humiliation of..”

I interrupt my boyfriend's words as I kiss Fernando in that moment, and he tastes like the same delicious pizza I've been eating, and that unique Fernando taste I love so much. After half a minute of Fernando and me kissing and fondling each others bodies (Fernando cops a feel, but under the circumstances, I allow it), both of us occasionally moaning with pleasure from the kiss, I pull away slightly and say. “Like I said last night, I love that you're fat. And nobody else's opinion of your size, apart from your own, should matter to you. Tell you what, even though you blew me off last night, I'll still let you go all the way with me tonight, as soon as I'm done eating. But there's something I need you to promise me in return.”

Fernando smiles and nods. “Anything.”

I shoot Fernando a wicked grin again. “Promise me that, on our next date, when I take you to an all you can eat buffet during peak business hours, you will eat as much food as you can until you're comfortably full. At the table as close to the center of the restaurant as we can get. In front of everyone.”

Fernando gulps. “I...I don't know if I can do that. People will make fun of me.”

I shake my head and smile, but there's a serious look in my eyes as I say. “If anyone does make fun of you, I'll make sure they regret it. And I know you can do this Fernando, for me. I just want everyone to know how proud I am to have a fat guy who loves to eat for a boyfriend. Especially one as sweet at you! I'll even sweeten the deal for you. If you do this thing for me later, in addition to getting to make love to me tonight, I promise you that, provided you are otherwise as much of a gentleman as usual, you can stare at my body as much as you want during our date. And I'll do some...things, which I will surprise you with later, to make it obvious to everyone that we're a couple. How does that sound?”

Fernando smiles, but his eyes still seem nervous. “That sounds like a great deal, Sandra. But still, it will be embarrassing to eat plate after plate of food, in front of everyone, while you only eat one or two plates on our next date.”

I smile mischievously at Fernando as I get another piece of pizza and take a bite out of it. When I'm done with the bite of delicious pizza, I say. “Who says I'll only have one or two plates? Even though I usually restrain myself to keep my figure for my job, I can 'eat like a pig' with the best of them when I really want to! Besides...” I pat my trim stomach (although it's a little bigger than usual from the sandwich, and from the pizza already in my belly). “I'm in pretty good shape, and I can afford one cheat day. Just once, I'll pig out right along with you at the buffet, if that will make you less nervous.”

Fernando sighs with relief. “Oddly enough, I think I would feel better about making a pig of myself in public if you were eating a lot too. Okay, I'll do it!”

I smile at Fernando's words, and Fernando and I keep talking, and occasionally, laughing about, everything that comes into our minds, including how long (definitely not if) Jeff and Lester will lord their “Employee of the Month” status over everyone else at the Buy More, and If those two will ever figure out that there is only supposed to be one employee of the month, while I rub Fernando's large, stuffed belly. As I'm doing all of this, I continue eating my pizza, but I don't really keep track of how many pieces I'm having because I'm enjoying the taste of one of my childhood favorite foods and Fernando's company so much. So it takes my by surprise when I finally look down while reaching for my next slice of pizza, and realize that it is the last one. So it takes my by surprise when I finally look down while reaching for my next slice of pizza, and realize that it is the last one. No, that I've been full for sometime, but didn't notice it, because I was...preoccupied. By this point, my belly has entered painfully stuffed territory. 

Still, somehow, I still want the last, solitary slice of pizza in my hand. Despite my painfully full stomach, my belly rumbles at the sight of all of the pepperoni, sausage, and pineapple baked perfectly into the four cheeses and the perfect, golden-browned crust of what I now realize was the largest, most delicious looking slice of pizza in the box as I think to myself. “Damn it! I shouldn't, but I really want to eat this last slice of pizza. I just wish I wasn't so full!”

I blush as I realize I voiced that thought out loud, but Fernando just gives me an understanding smile and says. “If it will make you happy, you should go ahead and eat the rest of the pizza! I'll even rub your belly this time, to help you make room!”

I blush harder as I realize that, with my stomach as full as it is, I do have an actual belly for Fernando to rub at the moment, but my worries over my (temporarily, I tell myself) enlarged stomach fade away as Fernando rubs my belly. After about a minute of Fernando rubbing my naked belly with his seemingly magic fingers, I let out a low moan of pleasure as something in my stomach shifts, and I suddenly don't feel quite as full. Of course, soon after that happens...

UUUURP! POOOOT!

My mouth releases a loud belch, and a louder, smellier fart than Fernando's recent gaseous emission escapes from my ass!

 

Nevertheless, Fernando keeps rubbing my belly, chuckles, and repeats my words from earlier. Better out than in!” Then my boyfriend says, “Trust me.” Fernando proceeds to gently take the last piece of pizza out of my hands before hand feeding it to me. I moan in between small bites as Fernando helps me to savor the last slice of pizza, and I shrug and say. “What the hell?! I've already blown my diet for the day, anyway!”

The warmth and lack of judgment in Fernando's eyes then spurs me on to keep eating as he smiles and says. “I won't tell if you won't!”

The combined pleasures of Fernando rubbing my stuffed belly and the pizza he's feeding me overloads my senses, causing me to moan several times between bites, and I even start to feel heat between my legs as I become slightly wet. But alas, the magic moment doesn't last forever, as I soon run out of bites of pizza. Before I can get too disappointed by the end of my sexy feast, Fernando draws me into a deep kiss, and I draw myself up against my boyfriends body until we are almost flush against each other, and my hard, stuffed belly touches Fernando's soft, fat one. My nipples harden as I stray, deviant thought unwittingly turns me on. 'This is so hot! But it would be even hotter if my belly was fat, like it was in last night's dream, instead of just stuffed!' Before I can even try to dispel this renegade thought, Fernando is lowering me onto the bed, initiating intercourse.

Thought gives way over the course of many hours, and I surrender myself entirely to feeling as my boyfriend and me make love, both of us occasionally belching or farting as we do so.. Even so, I can't help but notice that sex with Fernando feels even better when we're both stuffed with food, and I absentmindedly wonder whether I'll ever let myself go enough to experience this rare pleasure again as I cum over and over again during mine and Fernando's lovemaking session.

By the time Fernando and I are done making love, the sun is rising outside, and we are both coated in sweat, but too tired to shower at the moment. Therefore, after one last sweet kiss, Fernando and I exchange “I love you”s, then cuddle naked in bed, with my still slightly stuffed belly resting against Fernando's fat one, and bask in the warm afterglow of love and sex before we both start drifting off to sleep. 

As I'm drifting off, somewhere between the dreaming and waking worlds, I hear the familiar voice of “fat me” in my head. “There, you see! I told you it was better to just let go and give into the fat side!” 

My name is Sandra, but most people call me Greta. And tonight is one of the best, and strangest, nights of my life

FERNANDO'S POV.

For the second time in my life, I'm not alone in bed when I wake up. Hazel orbs are looking right at me when my own eyes open. Greta..no, Sandra, smiles at me and gives me a quick kiss. We both have morning breath, but I don't care, and apparently, neither does Sandra. When Sandra and I both pull away from the five second kiss, Sandra says. “Good morning,sleepyhead. It's almost noon. And I know from the employee bulletin board that you have work today! It's time to get up!”

I nod, then yawn loudly, much to Sandra's apparent amusement, as the brunette, who has still not pulled her naked body away from mine, smirks and says. “Impressive yawn, but we seriously need to get up now!”

I nod again, then gently pull away from Sandra, which causes my girlfriend ('I'm so glad Sandra's my girlfriend!') to sigh softly, as I say. “Good morning, Gr...I mean, Sandra. Um, I didn't keep you away from work, or spy stuff, or anything this morning, did I?”

Greta shakes her head, then looks down in embarrassment “No, my superiors gave me today off to calm down after yesterday's...incident. I was supposed to go for a run this morning,but I was so comfy when I woke up in your arms that I just couldn't bring myself to get out of bed ! Besides, you looked so peaceful when you were sleeping that I couldn't possibly wake you up!”

I chuckle at the accusing look Sandra gives me then. “So, you're saying it's my fault you didn't get your morning exercise in today?!”

Sandra smirks at me. “Yep. 100% your fault.”

I shrug and smile at Sandra, even as I notice that my smiling girlfriend's boobs and belly (which is now longer stuffed after hours of digestion) seem to have grown outward almost and imperceptible amount overnight. I'm starting to get a better picture of Sandra's motivations now, and even though I only know a little bit about the woman I love, I'm starting to understand some of her behavior patterns as well. Sandra loves to eat, but she doesn't usually allow herself to eat as much as she want to because she's afraid of becoming fat. Which is a bit ironic, considering her taste in men, but whatever. Furthermore,Sandra doesn't seem to like exercising very much, but she usually does so every morning anyway because she needs to stay fit for her job, and again, because she's afraid of getting fat. Apparently, however, something about the events of last night seem to have brought about a change in Sandra. Since then, it seems, when given an excuse to do so, Sandra won't hesitate to eat a lot of food, or to flake out on her exercise routine. But my girlfriend still seems to feel guilty after “being bad,”, by taking in more calories than her body burns off. Hence, Sandra's attempt to blame me for her failure to exercise this morning.. As her boyfriend, this state of affairs presents something of a problem for me.

I love Sandra, and I want her to be happy. If it were up to me, Sandra could eat to her heart's content, and never have to exercise again if she didn't want to. And I wouldn't give a damn if that lifestyle made Sandra fat, because I know she would be beautiful at any size, and I certainly wouldn't mind her and I being a fat, happy couple together. Trouble is, I'm not sure Sandra would be happy if she got fat, since she seems to be quite proud of her trim body, and I definitely don't want her to get fired from her government job for gaining too much weight...

The desperate, almost pleading look Sandra gives me then decides my response to Greta's last statement for me, as I silently decide that Sandra's happiness is what really matters. So I quickly absolve my girlfriend of the guilt she is feeling for not exercising this morning as I chuckle and say. “Yeah, that was totally my fault! If I'd just gotten up earlier, you could have gone for your run!”

Sandra smiles at me again. “Exactly! And if you had eaten more of that pizza last night, I wouldn't have had to scarf down nine slices on my own!”

I try not to laugh as I play along with my girlfriend's ridiculous denial games.'Whatever gives Sandra an excuse to enjoy herself without guilt, I guess.' “Yeah, that pizza was really good. I definitely should have eaten more of it! What was that pizza place called again?”

Sandra shrugs. “Mario's Pizzeria. Or Luigi's. It's run by a couple of brothers who keep fighting over the name, so it changes every couple of years or so. But their pizza is good regardless!”

Sandra is about to open her mouth to say something else when someone knocks on my door. Unfortunately, that someone turns out to be my mother, and when my mom starts speaking, do I realize that I forgot to set my alarm to give my mom her morning medication today “Rise and shine, lovebirds! It's almost time for brunch! Don't worry, Fernando, I got up in time to take my own medication this morning, but you and Greta need to wash up and come downstairs for some food! I won't take no for an answer! And don't try to be modest and take separate showers, we need to save water in this house!”

I can feel my cheeks heat up with embarrassment, but Sandra just laughs at our predicament. “Oh well, cat's out of the bag now! We better do as your mom says and wash up before brunch. I wouldn't want to be rude and refuse food your mom's cooked herself, after all”

I frown and say. “How do you think she knew..”

 

Sandra shrugs. “Does it matter?”

I nod, silently coinciding my girlfriend's point, before the two of us quickly rush to the nearest bathroom and take a hot shower. I'm heedful of my mom's words about saving water, though, so this shower isn't nearly as sensual or romantic as my first shower with Sandra was. But my girlfriend and I still wash each other quite thoroughly Then Sandra and I make ourselves as presentable as possible and brush our teeth (with Sandra using a guest toothbrush), before going downstairs towards the dining room.

After Sandra and I head downstairs, with me in my work clothes, and Sandra in her clothes from yesterday, which she straightened out and febrezzed as much as she could, Sandra quickly sniffs the air and smiles. “What is that delicious smell?!”

Before I can reply, my mother's words come from the kitchen. “That smell is our brunch! Now hurry up and get seated so that we can eat before the food gets cold!”

I sigh a little as I lead Sandra into the dining room, even though the cornucopia of food items on the table in front of me makes Sandra and me's stomach's rumble. As I get Sandra's chair for her, and my girlfriend admires the large spread of food on the table, which contains waffles, heavily buttered toast, crepes, pancakes, bagels smothered in cream cheese, omelets, bacon, sausage, ham, chicken, and many other breakfast foods, I glare slightly at my mom when she sits down and say. “You should have woken me up earlier so I could give you your medication and make breakfast for all of us! You shouldn't be doing so much...”

My mother, who is currently panting and sweating from exhaustion, probably from being on her feet while doing all this cooking, shakes her head and waves off my concern. “I wanted to make breakfast for you and your first girlfriend, if that's what she is. Relationships among the young seem so much more complicated these days. And I wanted you and Greta to have more time to enjoy yourselves and make up this morning. I'm still strong enough for that!”

I'm about to open my mouth to argue further, after I seat myself at the table, but Sandra quickly holds my hand under the table and speaks first. “Mrs. Hernandez, Fernando and I really appreciate you giving us more time this morning, and for making us this wonderful meal, don't we, Fernando?” 

My girlfriend and my mom both give me dangerous looks, so I quickly nod my head “Yeah, thanks, mom!”. I definitely don't want to argue with both of these strong-willed woman at the same time. 

Sandra then smiles at me and says, “I didn't know I was your first girlfriend, Fernando.”

I sigh. Sandra has known, for about a week, that she is my first (and part of me already hopes “only”, as well) lover, and now she knows that she is my first serious girlfriend. I avoid eye contact with Sandra as I say. “Yeah, I've had a few blind dates with the daughters of some of my mom's friends, but nothing every came of any of them. You're the only girlfriend I've ever had, Greta. I guess that's kind of pathetic for someone my age, huh?”

Sandra shakes her head and squeezed my hand reassuringly. “ Actually, I think it's kind of sweet. It's like, you have a clean slate, you know? No previous relationships in your past means you've never had any bad relationships. You don't have baggage. That's not a bad thing.”

My mom laughs. “I couldn't have said it better myself!”

I smile at the only two women in the world I love, then focus my attention on my mom and say. “As much I appreciate you going to all this trouble, I have to ask. How did you know...”

“Greta was in your room?” My mom smiles enigmatically, then shrugs. “I heard your girlfriend sneak into your room while you were giving me my medication last night. Neither of you are as quiet as you think you are!”

Sandra and I both blush as the implications of that, but my mom is quick to laugh, then reassure both of us. “Don't worry, I didn't mean it that way! I turned the TV up in my room really loud last night so you two could have some privacy. You didn't disturb me at all. Besides, It's clear that you two love each other from the way you keep making eyes at each other...” 

Sandra and I both blush and lower our heads, since we had just been doing just that without thinking about it. But my mom continues speaking, heedless of me and my girlfriend's embarrassment “And I'm glad that you two made up. Now, let's stop jawing, say grace, and eat!”

I look nervously towards Sandra, since I don't know which religious traditions, if any, my new girlfriend holds to. But Sandra just gives me a wink, then bows her head at the same time as me and my mom do, while my mother prays over our meal. I sigh with relief after the prayer is over, knowing that, whether or not Sandra shares my family's beliefs, she at least respects them.

After the prayer is done, my mom and I, who have long since stopped hiding our gluttony from each other, load a little bit of every item onto the large platters we are using as plates, while Sandra only puts one piece of toast a small part of an omelet, and some fruit on her platter. But my mom quickly starts loading Sandra's plate with a little bit of every other food item on the table and says. “Don't insult my cooking by eating like a bird! You're too thin! You need to at least try everything!”

I shake my head. “Mom, that's really not necessary...”

Sandra gives me a nervous smile and shakes her head. “It's okay, Fernando. I'm sure I can make room. I wouldn't want to be rude, after all.”

My mom smiles, and I just shrug, as Sandra starts stuffing her face with all the food that has been placed in front of her, without complaint. Then I start to eat. But it's Sandra's eating I'm watching right now as she quickly devours her way through one food item after another, quietly“MMM”ing in between bites of some items. Sandra especially appears to enjoy the sweeter items on her plate, such as the fruit, and the pancakes and waffles, which are already covered in syrup, as she only moans when eating those items. Amazingly, partly because my mom and I have both been more focused on watching my slim girlfriend's display of gluttony than eating our own food, Sandra finishes her first tray of food before either of us. My girlfriend then lets out a small, ladylike belch, which she tries to cover with her hand. URP! “Excuse me!”

My mom shrugs and says, “You're excused”, but I simply laugh and say, “Better out than in, right?!” 

Sandra then sighs and says, “Thank you for the food, Mrs, Hernandez! Everything was delicious!”

I raise my eyebrow at my mom as she openly refills Sandra's platter with more food. “I'm glad you like my cooking so much, Greta. Here, have some more. I insist!”

Sandra shoots me a nervous look, silently asking me whether or not she should continue ruining her diet by eating some more of my mom's food, I imagine. I just shrug and give her a reassuring look, doing my best to convey what I'm thinking without words. 'It's up to you. Keeping eating or stop. I'll be fine with whichever choice you make.”

I guess Sandra gets the message, because she beams at me before she silently begins eating through her second platter of my mom's cooking.. I don't know why my mom is overfeeding Sandra like this, but as long as Sandra seems happy to keep eating, I'm not going to make a fuss about it.

I am rewarded for my input (or lack thereof) concerning my girlfriend's eating habits with the look of pure happiness on Sandra's face as she continues to scarf down my mom's cooking faster than me or my mom, despite the fact that my mother and I have both resumed eating at our usual fast pace. And right then, in that moment, I know that I will never, ever, ask Sandra to slow her eating down, go on a diet, or limit her calorie intake in any way. Not when food obviously makes my girlfriend so happy. Along with that silent affirmation comes a sense of foreboding. More like a premonition, really. 

In that moment, I somehow know that, for better or for worse, Sandra is going to end up sharing life in the fat lane with me sooner or later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope all of my readers enjoyed this chapter! Remember, feedback is always appreciated! I would be especially interested in hearing people's thoughts on the modified episode scene, since one reader suggested I should make better use of the source material in my chapters, but any feedback concerning this chapter would be helpful. 
> 
> And in case anyone was wondering, don't worry. Greta's expansion has just begun! Her increases in both size and appetite should be well documented in future chapters!
> 
> Until next time, just remember...
> 
> -Some Like It Fat


	5. Greta vs. the Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandra's continues to gain weight while dating Fernando. Meanwhile, "Greta" is allowed to resume field work just in time to take part in a crucial mission. But is Greta's body up to the task after several weeks out of the field, or will her steadily expanding waistline prevent the successful completion of the unsanctioned black op? 
> 
> This chapter is loosely based on the episode "Chuck vs. Phase Three." Please note, without access to the episode itself, I was reliant on Wikipedia, Youtube clips, and my own memory to sync this chapter up with the episode. Any continuity errors are my own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains more male and female weight gain, binge eating, burping and farting, and displays of a general lack of fitness by one of the characters. Enjoy!

My name is Sandra. But most people call me Greta. And some people think I’m starting to develop a weight problem.

Only a couple weeks after what Team Bartowski now calls “The Cage Incident”, I am cleared for active duty, but not seduction missions, by both a CIA medic and my CO at the Buy More, Colonel John Casey. I am commended for being   “a fast healer” by the medic who removes the bandage on my arm. But the medic, a friend (or at least a very good acquaintance) of mine, Dr. Abigail Williams, warns me that: “You’ve gained a little bit of weight while you were of duty, Greta.”

I suddenly realize that some of my clothes have been getting a bit tighter lately, but I mentally chalk up my weight gain as “new relationship weight” mixed with inactivity while being suspended from missions. The doctor reinforces this conclusion when she assures me that my five pound gain is nothing to worry too much about. The doctor then adds that “Agents often gain weight when they are incapacitated by injuries, and you are still at a healthy weight, Greta. Nevertheless, I am going to write up nutrition and exercise plans for you to follow from now on, so that you can remain healthy enough to be a field agent.” 

I smile at Dr. Williams as I promise to follow her instructions to the letter. As soon as I’m out of her office, I drop her notes into the nearest waste basket. After all, I’ve been the picture of physical fitness and restraint since I was thirteen. I don’t need some doctor to tell me how to manage my weight and fitness levels.

This response to my doctor’s orders almost cost me, however. After several hours of therapy, during which I am forced to discuss, among other things, my dead family and my relationship to Fernando, Dr. Nora Tyler somehow tricks me into telling her that I threw away my doctor’s physical fitness plan. After that revelation, the award winning psychiatrist the government hired to counsel me after I was nearly sexually assaulted makes a recommendation that makes my blood boil. “Greta, or should I call you Sandra….”

I cross my arms in front of me in the therapy room, where I have elected to sit on the only loveseat in the room, instead of any one of the three couches. “Greta. Only my friends and my boyfriend can call me Sandra.”

The therapist, an expert at treating veterans and sexual assault victims, calmly nods her head from her place on the couch in front of me.  “I thought as much. I would like to talk with you more about your relationship to Fernando at some other time. Right now, however, I am more concerned that your refusal to follow you unit medic’s orders concerning diet and exercise may indicate that you are less than enthusiastic about returning to the field. Therefore, I am going to recommend that you attend three more therapy sessions, at minimum, to determine whether you are mentally prepared for active duty before you are allowed in the field again.”

I glare at the therapist and sneer at the professionally dressed woman with the clipboard in her hand, and then I roll my eyes and snort. “And I’m supposed to take fitness tips from you?! You must be, what, at least 300 pounds?!”

 I feel bad about my words right after I say them. But the blonde haired, blue-eyed woman in front of me chuckles and smirks, showing of her chubby cheeks and double chin in the process. Clearly, she finds my remark about her weight amusing, instead of offensive. “375. But I’m tall, so I wear it well…”

I nod in acknowledgment of the fact that my  therapist’s large belly, big breasts, huge ass, and large hips, thighs, and arms make Nora look fat, but not that fat, as Dr. Tyler adds. “And I’m actually quite happy with my size. But I’m not a field agent.  And until you can prove you’re serious about losing weight, ‘Greta’, my recommendation on your report will be that you won’t be either until you attend three more therapy sessions and demonstrate a commitment to get back to your original weight.”

I stomp out of that office with my blood boiling, vowing to myself that I would fight my therapist recommendation. Thankfully, Sarah and Casey both vouch for my ability to get fit again on my own, and I am allowed to go on missions again against Dr. Tyler’s orders. But I am still required to attend more therapy sessions between missions, and I am barred from seduction missions pending the completion of my therapy.  And that last part is fine with me.

The day I was green-light for more missions, I decide to celebrate with Fernando by finally taking my boyfriend on that date to a buffet I had promised to take him on weeks ago. As  we pull into the parking lot of the buffet in my van, I pat my small belly and  promise myself I will start the diet and exercise routine I hadn’t quite gotten around to starting since I was informed I had started gaining weight…tomorrow. I tell myself that I will find some way not to eat so much at meals when I’m on date with Fernando (although I know watching Fernando eat makes me both hungry and horny for some reason)…tomorrow.. I also promise myself I will get up earlier each morning so I can start jogging again (even though Fernando and I both love sex, and make love late into each night, often leaving me drained of energy each morning), and that I will find some way to sneak away from Fernando’s house in the morning, or say no to his (for Fernando usually cooks breakfast early each morning so his sick mother doesn’t have to) delicious cooking, which is probably responsible for at least five of the ten pounds I’ve gained since getting injured in the field. Tomorrow.

But tonight, as promised, I will eat my fill and feast alongside my boyfriend, so he doesn’t feel bad about making a pig of himself in public. I also keep my promise to let everyone at the buffet know Fernando is my boyfriend by kissing him for five seconds after he opens my car door for me in the parking lot. I then whisper into my FAT boyfriend’s ear. “Keep your hand in my back pocket until I pay for our food at the register.”

Fernando happily complies. And even though the “fat pants” I’m currently wearing aren’t quite as loose as they were a couple weeks ago, and I thought I caught the sight of a bit of cellulite on one of my ass cheeks in Fernando’s bathroom mirror this morning, the fact that my boyfriend quickly squeezes my ass through the fabric of my pocket, while opening the front door of the restaurant for me with his other hand, still makes me feel like a sex goddess. I actually feel a little down when Fernando reluctantly pulls his hand out of my back pocket when I pay for our food, but when I see the same desire I’m feeling reflected in Fernando’s eyes, I know my boyfriend and I will have plenty of chances to “touch” each other later tonight. Besides, if all the stares and whispers from the other patrons are any indication, mine and Fernando’s PDA had the desired effect, as everyone at the buffet now knows that I’m proudly dating Fernando.

One awkward moment almost ruins the mood of the evening right after Fernando sits down at our table after sitting me first. At that point, an obnoxious, heavily muscled gentleman with a crew cut comes right up to our table and tells me to “Dump the fat loser, and get with a real man”, or something to that effect.  I honestly felt too bored by the man to pay him much attention. But I quickly diffuse the situation anyway by quickly taking Fernando’s hand in mine, before my self-conscious boyfriend starts feeling down on himself, or leaves the restaurant in embarrassment. “I already have a real man, thanks. And didn’t anyone tell you? The muscle head fad is so last millennium. Fat is where it’s at!”

I then proceed to lightly pat Fernando’s belly in front of everyone, causing Fernando to blush deep red and whisper. “Stop it, Greta! You’re embarrassing me! “ But my words and actions have the desired effect, as Mr. Musclehead  sneers at me and Fernando, then walks away from our table while muttering, “Whatever.”

Nobody bothers me or Fernando for the rest of the evening. Fernando and I pile plate after plate high with food, and consume all of it. I keep my promise to eat just as much Fernando, which is harder than I thought it would be. Because it turns out that Fernando has a large appetite on an average day, but at a buffet, surrounded by the sights and sounds of delicious food, my boyfriend’s hunger is massive, and his stomach might as well be a black hole. Nevertheless, I match Fernando plate for plate, consuming heavily buttered vegetables and bread items, chilled fruits, Mexican food, Italian fare, pizza (which both Fernando’s words, and two of our plates, each full of five slices of pizza with various different toppings, assure us, should be its own food group and category), various fried foods, burgers, (hot and corn) dogs, and many other tasty items. With each delicious bite, I remind myself to enjoy this feast, because this will be the last time I will be able to eat food this fattening ever again.

Still, I enjoy the feeling of being completely full after Fernando and I polish off our last plates of food, and I rub my belly under the table and sigh in satisfaction, knowing that food hasn’t made me feel this good since I was a child. For a full minute, I bask in the wonderful feelings that my belly is sending to my brain. I know what this feeling is. I remind myself what my “friends” taught me when I was twelve. That the joy that comes from gluttony is fleeting, and is only caused by neurotransmitters in my brain, running an obsolete biological program created by evolution when food was scarce, and early humans were constantly on the edge of starvation. A program which rewards me with pleasure for eating until I am full so that my body can store excessive calories as fat. I remember those friends telling me that giving into these impulses is primitive weakness, which can lead to lifelong obesity and social ruin. I remember all of this, but in this moment, where both my ridiculously sexy fat boyfriend and I are rubbing our bellies in contentment, I don’t care. I just know that, right now, I am happy.

Then Fernando stops rubbing his belly, smiles at me, and then says, in an innocent tone of voice that is betrayed by the challenging look in his eyes. “Ok. Time for dessert now! Unless, of course, you’re too full to continue.”

I smirk at Fernando, even as I unfasten my belt, and undo the button on my fat pants turned painfully tight skinny jeans, and mentally prepare myself to become more stuffed than ever before. “Bring it on. I’m starving.”

Fernand shoots me a smile, indicating he is happy I’ve accepted his challenge, but, seeing how stuffed I already am, he offers to get bring the rest of my food to the table with his own deserts, and he whispers in my ear. “Don’t worry; I’ll give you a really good belly rub before we make love tonight.” And my slightly perverted knight in shining armor only looks down my shirt, at the breasts which have recently started to outgrow my bra, once during the entire conversation. He’s such a gentleman.

I actually wolf down the three large plates of cake, pie, cobblers ice cream, pudding, and various other sweet treats, hoping to outrace the stuffed feeling in my stomach. I grin when I succeed, and actually finish every bite of dessert before Fernando. I then chuckle at my boyfriend and say. “Hurry up and finish, lightweight! We have other things to do tonight besides eating!”

 

I pay for my hubris shortly after Fernando finishes his food, when the insides of my stomach feel like they turn to cement, even as my body forces out excess gas, built up in my stomach, out of my mouth and ass at the same time! 

POOT! URP! i look down and blush as people around me start to stare at me while holding their noses, but Fernando just laughs at me and whispers into my ear: "Better out than in!" before letting out an even louder belch and smellier fart than then ones my body had just produced! URRRRRP! POOOOOT! 

Even after Fernando and I are done laughing at each others gaseous emissions, and the annoyed stares some of the other restaurant patrons are giving us, It takes five minutes of rubbing my own belly, and unzipping my jeans, before the nausea caused by me feeling the effects of my overstuffed belly finally subsides. Even so, my belly still HURTS when Fernando helps me up from my chair, and I don’t even care about all the people staring at my exposed, distended belly as my boyfriend helps me to the car. Thankfully, thanks to Fernando rubbing my belly during the entire thirty minute drive to his house, my extremely full belly is no longer in pain by the time we arrive at our destination.

As soon as my stomach stops hurting, my attention turns from my own overstuffed stomach  to Fernando’s, and I can’t help but notice that, on top of the five pounds he’s gained since the Cage incident, the food in Fernando’s belly is making my boyfriend’s stomach looked like an overinflated balloon. If balloons were filled with fat,  that is. As a consequence, I’m extremely horny by the time Fernando finishes giving his mom her medicine, and finally reaches his bedroom. So I end up awkwardly trying to kiss my boyfriend passionately, take off his clothes, and rub Fernando’s huge belly, all at the same time. Despite my clumsy efforts, which cause Fernando to chuckle and say, in an affectionate tone “Down, chubby chaser”; we eventually end up in bed together. After I spend half a moment to berate myself for introducing Fernando to some of my friends and their “clever” lines, especially Sarah, my boyfriend and I peel each other’s clothes off and make love.

And holy shit, it’s even better than the first time!

I try not to think about why this is. I try to overlook the obvious fact that Fernando and I have fantastic sex every time we’re both stuffed with food. I try not to wonder why tonight, when I’m more stuffed than I’ve ever been in my adult life, and my boyfriend is so bloated with food that he looks like the stay puffed marshmallow man, the sex with Fernando is better than it’s ever been.  And I especially try not to make the connection that I always eat more than I intend to on my dates with Fernando, who also eats a lot every day, and that this might have something to do why sex with my fat boyfriend, the only person who’s ever been able to make me cum, is so amazing every night. 

But inside my head, a voice that sounds suspiciously like ‘fat Greta’ laughs at my denial “You shouldn’t fight this, Sandra! Keep eating like a pig every night, and you will never go without pleasure again! Give into the fat side!”

Despite my confused thoughts and  fears, and the fact that neither me, nor my boyfriend, can stop burping and farting during intercourse, I thoroughly enjoy every moment that my boyfriend and I make love, just like always.Then, Fernando and I give each other a long, slow kiss before exchanging “I love you’s” and finally falling asleep in each other’s arms at exactly two in the morning.

It’s 3 in the morning when my phone rings, and I wake up with a groan and pick up the phone without even opening my eyes. “If this isn’t Jack Black, I’m hanging up.”

But the frantic voice on the other end of the line interrupts my tired rant! “Sandra, its Sarah, and I need your help! They…they took Chuck!”

 My eyes widen as my mind wakes up in a split second.I instantly know that Chuck is in even more danger than usual after hearing Sarah use my real name on an unsecured line. That’s a rookie mistake Sarah wouldn’t make unless she was terrified out of her mind. “Wait, what!? Who took Chuck?!”

My voice is a little louder than I intended it to be at this moment, but Fernando only stirs slightly before starting to snore again.  I silently thank whoever runs the universe that Fernando is a heavy sleeper, and didn’t hear any compromising information about Chuck, or the Intersect, or any other classified information that could get him killed. And I’m even more thankful that Fernando is safe here in his room. Unlike Chuck.

And in that moment, I know in my heart that Fernando is my Chuck, and I would be absolutely lost if anything happened to him. I can tell from the desperate tone in Sarah’s voice that is exactly how she feels now. “I don’t have time to play twenty questions with you, Sandra! I mean, Greta!  Now, I need someone who will be willing to cross any boundaries, break any law or treaty, to help me save Chuck. And since I thought we had an understanding about protecting both Chuck and your boyfriend…. Are you willing to be that person or not?!”

I ignore Sarah’s sharp tone because I know she is just scared for Chuck right now, so I calmly reply into my phone. “Of course I am. I won’t tell you not to worry, but we will get Chuck back, ok? Just tell me where to meet you and I’ll be there. Then we’ll find whatever scumbag stole your boyfriend and kick his or her ass, alright?!”

I’ve been getting dressed and rubbing the sleep out of my eyes as I talk to my scared friend and I’m just finishing putting on top and waking out the door, sparing only one last glance and a kiss on the forehead for Fernando before I leave his room while talking to my friend on the phone. “And don’t forget, together, you and I can beat any odds. S&S…”

Sarah sighs in relief on the other side of the line and finishes the old motto we coined when we were both on the CAT squad. “are T&T! Thank you!”

A surprisingly quick and bumpy plane ride (In which I hardly get any sleep, and Sarah gets none, as far as I can tell), a crashed  jungle gladiator match, a run in with Casey and Morgan and many  hours later, I find myself  running in the middle of Thailand after Sarah. John Casey, who is practically dragging Morgan behind him, is forced to lag behind me and my best friend. But I’m not doing much better. Although I’m just able to keep up with Sarah, due to my years of field experience, my physical state when we arrive outside of the enemy camp where Chuck is being held prisoner by the Belgium shows that I’m not as fit as I used to be. Whereas Sarah’s breathing is even, and her face and body are dry, my lungs feel like they’re on fire as I involuntarily breathe so loudly I’m afraid I’ll give away our position, and my whole body is coated in sweat. Thankfully, everyone is too focused on getting Chuck right now to pay much attention to me, and Team Intersect and I make a plan as soon as Casey and Morgan catch up to Sarah and me.

Minutes later, Sarah, Casey and I are all waiting from different positions around the perimeter of the camp waiting for Morgan to create a distraction so the rest of us (the real big damn heroes here), can sneak into the camp.  My designated position is on top of a tree branch. Predictably, everything quickly goes straight to hell. And even thought what happens next is only about 50% my fault, it’s still really embarrassing.

It seems that when Sarah asked me to watch Morgan’s position from above while standing on top of a sturdy looking tree branch, she forgot to factor in the ten pounds I’ve gained since my arm was injured  into her calculations concerning whether the branch could hold me up. Thankfully, despite watching Morgan’s lost tourist routine intently, I still manage to hear the branch I’m standing on snap in time to brace myself for impact with the ground…or rather, on top of the head of one of the Belgium’s minions, so I’m unharmed. The goon who break my fall can’t say the same, however, as I hear the distinct sound of the man’s neck breaking when me and the broken branch fall on top of him. Unfortunately, this ruins the element of surprise, and Casey and I am forced to pull out our guns.

Casey rolls his eyes at me as he emerges as he steps out from behind some trees, guns blazing. I ignore the NSA agent, however, and focus on lining up my shots. Five headshots from me later (and okay, a few kills from Casey and Sarah, too), and all the Belgium guards are dead. When the smoke clears, Casey glares at me and says, “Nice going, fat ass!”

I continue to ignore Casey’s and turn towards Sarah., who is still soaking wet from emerging from a nearby body of water to make a couple of quick stealth kills. “Sarah, I’m sorry that…”

But Sarah walks right past me without even acknowledging my apology for blowing her cover. I understand her need to focus on saving Chuck, so I don’t press the issue. Instead, me and Casey help Sarah come down fast and hard on the Belgium’s hide out. Within seconds, the Belgium’s final guard is dead, and the mad scientist himself is on the floor and in pain from a gunshot wound I gave him on his right leg, while Sarah proceeds to rip electrodes of Chuck’s head and, at the urging of Morgan, try to save her boyfriend’s mind and memories by telling him she knows about his plan to propose to her, among other things.

I can tell from Sarah’s tone of voice that her words towards Chuck are meaningful, and full of emotion, but I purposely don’t listen to private words obviously only meant for Chuck’s ears. Instead I think about how empty, angry, and helpless I would feel if I was in Sarah’s position, and Fernando was in danger of dying or losing his memories right now. I think about that, and then I lean down towards the Belgium’s ear and whisper. “You better pray Chuck Bartowski gets through this with his mind and memories intact. Because if he doesn’t, and Agent Walker doesn’t kill you, I will.”

Under different circumstances, I would be smirking at the Belgium right now for peeing his pants. But I’m far too concerned for my best friend and the man she loves to be happy about striking fear into the sniveling man at my feet right now. Thankfully, Chuck comes out his coma, or whatever, with his mind and memories intact, as evidenced by the nerd making out with my best friend as soon as she wakes up. I roll my eyes at Sarah for making out with her boyfriend in the middle of a war zone, but  I allow myself a half smile conveying my relief that Chuck is fine as well as I whisper to the Belgium again. “Lucky you, you get to live to see the inside of a CIA torture chamber…I’m sorry, I meant interrogation room. I hope they make you scream for days before you die from the pain.”

My smile widens as the Belgium screams in fear. I love it when my enemies are gullible.

After our debriefing back at the Buy More, during which Sarah, Casey and I bullshit our way through Beckman’s interrogation without getting court marshaled for our unauthorized mission to save Chuck, I approach Sarah and Casey. “Sorry for blowing out cover and almost getting us killed…”

But Sarah shakes her head. “No, it’s my fault. I didn’t take your new…curves, into consideration when I asked you to spy on the camp from that branch, Greta.”

Casey smirks at me then, and I fight the urge to blush while I speak in my most professional voice. “Yeah. Sorry about that. Fernando’s appetite seems to be rubbing off on me lately.”

Sarah’s smiles at me and shakes her head. “I said don’t worry about it. You helped me save Chuck, and I am so grateful for that.  I couldn’t have asked for more. Besides, you’re still at a healthy weight, Greta. So don’t stress yourself about a few lbs. just yet. Hell, I gained four pounds the first month I dated Chuck. “Sarah points to my stomach, which seems even  less toned than it did the night before. “That’s probably just happy fat.”

I smile back at my best friend. “You’re probably right.”

But after Sarah walks away, Casey mutters, almost under his breath. “You still need to work on you cardio, agent Greta.”

I glare at Casey as he walks away, but even though Sarah’s words make me feel better about my recent weight gain, I silently acknowledge to myself that the Colonel is right. If I want to keep doing field missions, I need to get back into jogging, and going to the gym, ASAP. So, I vow to start working out again But for right now, I’m going to call my boyfriend, and tell him that I’m safe and that I love him, before I clock in for my next Buy More shift in 30 minutes. 

    Then my stomach growls and I realize that I’m famished after not eating for over a day while I was helping rescue Chuck.  So I pat my small belly without thinking about it, and decide that I’ll have enough time to grab a hot dog or two, and maybe a large soda, and some items from the vending machine to tide me over until my lunch break later, before my shift starts. I’ll make up for the calories when I start exercising again.

                Tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Readers, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and a return to a slower pace to this story, as well as Greta's weight gain. I just wanted to really focus on the ways that Greta's weight gain impacts both her personal and professional lives. But please, feel free to let me know in the comments section if you liked this chapter, or if you think this story needs a different approach. Feedback of any kind is always appreciated. In any case, until next time, remember...
> 
> -Some Like It Fat


	6. Greta vs. the Best Frenemies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Greta" is forced to deal with old friends that she no longer likes, nor trusts, during the events leading up to her best friend's engagement party. Meanwhile, a series of moments that range from embarrassing to confusing cause the secret agent to see her continuing weight gain, and her relationship to Fernando, in a different light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An AU take on the episode, "Chuck vs. the CAT squad." Contains further mentions of weight gain, body image issues, embarrassment, and a bit of burping and farting. Oh, and a sex scene. But it's not very detailed, and there's a lot of inner monologue and dialogue in the scene, so I didn't mark it with parenthesis. I hope that isn't a problem, and that you all like the chapter.

My name is Sandra. But most people call me Greta. And I’m about to have the most embarrassing adventure of my life.

It all starts about three weeks after rescuing Chuck from the Belgium, when Morgan Grimes informs me that Chuck, in his “infinite wisdom”, is trying to put the C.A.T squad back together for his and Sarah’s engagement party. When I get the call, my first instinct is to yell in frustration and throw my phone against a nearby wall. Instead, I simply snarl at Morgan on my end of the line. “Mmmm. Fine, but you till Chuck that I’m not talking to Zondra at the party. And I doubt Sarah will want to, either. She’s the…”

Morgan’s voice on the other end of the line is a little too enthusiastic when he attempts to finish my sentence for me. “The bitch. I know…”

I frown and shake my head as I reply. “Mmmm. What? No! I mean, that’s an accurate description of Zondra, among other things…” Like traitor, sower of discord, and destroyer of friendships. But, really, who’s hung up on a little tracker in Zondra’s boot that allowed a known terrorist named Augusto Gaez, who is still at large, to evade the C.A.T squad indefinitely? Not this girl. “But that wasn’t what I was going to say. Let’s just say that Sarah and I don’t get along with Zondra anymore and that bringing the C.A.T squad back together is a terrible idea…”

Morgan sighs on the other end of the line. “Tell me about it, inviting the C.A.T squad means that Carina is going to be there too.”

I’m confused for a second, until I remember that Sarah had told me that Team Bartowski had needed to team up with Carina, the member of the old squad that Sarah and I still tolerate best, for a mission awhile back. Taking into account Carina’s tendency to lure weak willed men into sleeping with her, than disappearing from their lives forever, I quickly guess what must have happened between Chuck’s dorky, and until recently, spineless, friend, and my former friend and teammate. I chuckle at Morgan’s obvious nervousness. “Mmm. Wait, you and Carina? Oh my, Alex is not going to be happy about that, is she? And Colonel Casey…”  
Morgan panics on the other end of the line. ‘You can’t tell either of them that I slept with Carina, okay?! It was before I met Alex, but I know Casey is waiting for an excuse to grind the man who’s dating his daughter into oblivion!”

I smirk at that. “Okay, fine. Mmm. But my silence has a price.”

“Anything!”

“Mmm. Mmm/ .Okay, Fernando gets to be my plus-one at the engagement party.”

Morgan exhales loudly on the other end of the line. “Sure. Everybody gets a plus one. But I still think it’s odd that a girl like you would end up with…”

I don’t even let Morgan finish that sentence. “Also, there needs to be tons of...Yum! I mean yummy pizza at the engagement party. Fernando loves pizza.”

I can practically hear Morgan’s eyes roll on the other end of the line. “You think!? He ate pizza three times in the break room this week…”

I smile because I remember that Fernando did that for me the three times our shifts at the Buy More intersected this week. He still looks nervous every time he eats “junk food” in public, but he also knows how much I love to watch him eat, and that I always reward Fernando’s public displays of gluttony with great sex later that day. My boyfriend is also aware that I will gladly give a beat down to anyone who makes fun of Fernando’s eating habits. 

But Morgan’s words break me out of that pleasant train of thought. “But I’m not sure pizza is classy enough for an engagement party.”

I smirk at Morgan’s lame attempt to defy me. “Mmm. That’s okay. You don’t need to order pizza for the party. I’ll just introduce Alex as your girlfriend as soon as the C.A.T squad arrives at the engagement party. I’m sure that Carina won’t make any problems for your current relationship whatsoever.”

I hear muffled curses on the other side of the line for several seconds before Morgan comes back with. “Fine. We’ll have pizza at the party. Lots of pizza. Enough for you and Fernando to choke on! Will that buy your silence?”

I shrug. “It’s a start. UMM….Oh, and FYI, The pizza is for Fernando. I’m on a strictly…mm….controlled diet and exercise routine. I don’t…Yum...eat that junk anymore.” Especially since I’ve gained another ten pounds or so in the last three weeks. Damn Fernando and his amazing cooking skills! If I didn’t love my boyfriend so much, I would probably hate him for the damage his food has done to my waistline.

Morgan chuckles on the other end of the line. “I’m sorry, are you eating right now?”

I look down at the sugary confection in my hand and say. “Maybe. I was hungry after going on a run. So I gave myself a treat. What of it?!” I don’t mention that I gave up at the halfway point of my usual run because I was breathing and sweating so hard. I really am out of shape. Unless round is a shape.

Morgan bursts out laughing. “So, let me get this straight. You’re telling me that you don’t eat junk food at the same time as you’re eating…what? A box of Twinkies?”

I roll my eyes. “Ho Hos, actually. Which I only have here because Fernando brought them over to my place last night and forget them while we were doing…other things. And ho hos aren’t junk! They have…calcium and vitamin D…from the milk in the chocolate! And I’ve hardly eaten the whole box!”

I look down at the large cardboard box, from which I have been absentmindedly taking out, unwrapping, and consuming delicious chocolate pastries for the last half hour or so me and Morgan have been talking, in order to prove my point, if only to myself. To my embarrassment, only one packet of chocolate pastries remains.

My embarrassment turns to anger, however, after Morgan chuckles again. “Whatever, Greta. Just watch yourself with all that food Fernando leaves lying around, or I might have to roll both of you into Chuck and Sarah’s party…”

“Very funny. Well, this ‘fat ass’ is going to call her friend Carina now and tell her you are dating Casey’s kid. Bye.”

“No, wait! I’m sor…”

I hang up on Morgan and smirk. Bluffing can be so much fun, sometimes. 

But my smirk turns into a frown when I think about Morgan’s prediction that I’ll gain even more weight while dating Fernando. However, I quickly convince myself not to listen. “It’s just Morgan. He’s a civilian. What does he know?” 

My eyes then drift to the lone two pack of ho hos left in the box I’m holding when my stomach starts growling. I only allow myself a moment to wonder why I’m still hungry before I give into temptation, open the last package of pastries, and quickly inhale both of the delicious treats. 

BURP! POOT!

I’m not even embarrassed about my concussive eructation and flatulence this time, since there is currently no one around to hear or smell them. So instead of blushing, I just pat my soft, slightly rounded stomach, which has started to resemble a potbelly recently, and smirk. “Good one.” Then, finally, as I’m wiping off my chocolate stained face with a napkin before washing my hands, my stomach grows quite.

I’m finally blissfully full.

After my hands are clean, I pull my shirt up just enough to see my small bloated gut. Under normal circumstances, I would be embarrassed about having let my belly get this big, but I’m too stuffed and happy to care right now. Instead, I just shrug and give myself a belly rub that feels amazing while I think to myself. “Oh, well. The diet starts back up tomorrow!”

…Some time later…

Carina comes up with the “brilliant” idea that the C.A.T squad should throw Sarah a bachelorette party going all over the world the night before her and Chuck’s engagement party. But it’s Amy that makes the “great” suggestion that we should surprise Sarah by jumping off of a helicopter in front of her and Chuck’s apartment first. My reservations on this matter are not heard by the other women.

I’m the last to jump out of the helicopter and onto the rope that allows me to propel my way down to the ground, Unfortunately, it’s been awhile since I’ve rappelled my way down a rope, and I’m sweating and panting by the time I’m halfway down. Then, just to make the situation even more embarrassing, the flimsy rope breaks when I’m still a couple feet about the ground.

SNAP!

“Ah!” Chuck just manages to jump out of the way before I land right on top of my best friend’s fiancée, so my ass makes contact with the hard ground instead. I barely manage to keep myself from crying out in pain, despite the fact that I feel a bruise forming underneath my black pants, on my right butt cheek. However, after looking at my friend’s fiancée and muttering. “Sorry, Chuck.” I make my displeasure at my current situation known by glaring at Amy. “Yeah, let’s surprise Sarah by jumping out of a helicopter! Great idea, Amy! And great work on choosing a good, strong rope for the job!”

Zondra just laughs at my anger, however. “Hey, it’s not Amy’s fault that you’ve let yourself go, Greta! How was she supposed to know that rope would have to support the weight of a cow?!”

Thankfully, Carina has been busy chatting with Morgan, who is also here for some reason, to notice either my embarrassing fall, or the subsequent argument it caused. Even so, my face is probably turning red right now, and I’m preparing to yell at Zondra and tell her that I’m not that big, but that I’d rather be a total fat ass than a bitchy traitor like her, when Sarah steps between me and the brown haired woman. “Hey! You’re all here for my engagement party, right!? I’m not going to let you ruin that by fighting amongst yourselves the night before the party even starts, okay? Amy, surprising me by jumping down from a helicopter was a very…creative idea.”

The other blonde member of our old squad smiles widely at my best friend’s words. “Thanks, Sarah!”

“But maybe you should ask me before pulling a stunt like than in the neighborhood I live in.” Amy’s face falls a little, even as Sarah turns towards me. “Greta, I’m sure Amy didn’t mean to pick a rope that couldn’t hold you up. After all, you’re not fat, or anything, but you have gained a bit of weight recently.”

I nod in acknowledgment of Sarah’s words before I say, under my breath. “Fine, I guess I could let it go. I’ve sustained much worse injuries than a bruised ass in the past, after all.”

Finally, Sarah turns to Zondra and says. “And can we please not start the night by throwing insults at each other, Zondra? Greta’s just started dating someone seriously for the first time, and she’s put on a bit of relationship weight, that’s all. Oh, and don’t make fun of Greta’s boyfriend at the engagement party tomorrow night, either…”

Zondra smirked. “Why? Is there something embarrassing about your boyfriend, Greta?”

I smirk right back. “Not really. Fernando’s just a fat guy, and I like him just the way he is.” I mentally face palm myself, hoping that Fernando wouldn’t be ashamed or embarrassed of my description of him, despite my efforts to normalize, and even sexualize, the word “fat” around my boyfriend. Even so, I know that it is important for me to show the other members of my old team that I’m not embarrassed about Fernando’s size or appetite.

Zondra opens her mouth for a retort, but Amy steps between me and Zondra while grabbing Sarah and dragging my best friend towards the chopper that landed while we were all arguing. “No more time for chit chat! Let’s get this party started!”

I don’t know whether to smile or roll my eyes at Amy’s antics. On the one hand, the party girl’s timing for collecting “the woman of the hour” for her pre-engagement party, party (and I don’t even know why I’m surprised by the redundancy, after all, the C.A.T. squad always did love to party) was impeccable, probably preventing yet another squabble between Zondra and me. On the other hand, I have always found Amy’s constant need to drink, scream and screw random guys to be rather excessive and annoying, even by my old squad’s standards. Also, there’s just something about Amy that’s always rubbed me the wrong way. Something that I just don’t trust. Then again, I don’t trust anyone who acts happy all the time.

But my thoughts are drowned out by the loud noise caused by the helicopter blades as the chopper lands. A moment later, we all take off, and I do roll my eyes as Amy pulls out a bottle of liquor and a bunch of shot glasses out of a bag while exclaiming. “Shots all around!” Amy then proceeds to fill a shot glass for everyone in the helicopter (and I do mean everyone, but the pilot, thankfully declines the temptation to drink on the job) and all of us girls take one while the bubbly blonde raises her glass and toasts. “To Sarah and…what’s the guy’s name again?”

“Chuck!” Carina, Sarah, and myself all shout over the sounds of the helicopter blades. But Amy either doesn’t notice, or doesn’t care, about our irritation with her, as she shouts again, even louder than before. “Right! To Sarah and Chuck getting married!”

All five of us clink our shot glasses together, then drink our beverages down in one gulp. I allow myself a small smile. This is actually kind of fun after all. I’m actually looking forward to whatever fun activities Sarah, the old squad, and I will be enjoying tonight…

Unfortunately, I barely remember anything after that. The rest of the evening goes by in a blur of alcohol, loud noises, bright lights, and lots and lots of delicious food. And beyond that, there is only darkness...

I wake up on in uncomfortable couch in the middle of a living room that I know, from the feel of the furniture, is not mine. I groan as I slowly sit up on the coach, but I hesitate to open my eyes because of the massive headache, likely from a hangover, that I’m sporting at the moment. Strangely, however, I don’t feel nauseas, which I usually do the day after binge drinking. In fact, my stomach feels really good for some reason. Like I’ve just enjoyed a full Thanksgiving meal…

But my pleasant thoughts are interrupted by Zondra’s annoying voice. “Where the hell are we?!”

I groan again as I open my eyes, even though the pain in my head caused by the blinding light of day isn’t as bad as it usually is when I’m hungover. “I think…”

I recognize the room that Amy, Zondra and I are lying down in, even as I look down in puzzlement at Amy, the only girl laying on the floor instead of a couch. “Yeah, we’re back at Sarah and Chuck’s place. Why are you lying on the floor like a dog, Amy? You look ridiculous.”

Amy opens her eyes to glare at me while sitting up and rubbing her back. “Don’t call me a dog, bitch! The only reason I was sleeping on this hard ass floor is because you wouldn’t share the last couch with me!”

I look down at the small couch I’m sitting on, which seems barely big enough for one person. Then, I start to remember Amy, Zondra, Carina, and myself all stumbling towards the couches when we got to this apartment early this morning, and Amy trying to muscle in on the couch I had already claimed before I pushed her off my sleeping area before passing out. I spare a moment to wonder where Carina’s gone off to since last night before I shrug. “Sorry, Amy. But I was here first, and there wasn’t room enough on the couch for two.”

Amy snorts. “Whatever. Pigs will be pigs. Right, Greta?”

I shake my head in confusion while Zondra starts to laugh. I glare at my chuckling former friend, but Zondra, being her usual bitchy self, keeps right on laughing. My ex-teammate only stops chuckling at my expense long enough to say. “No, kidding, Amy! You were a total pig last night, Greta! Damn, you must have had what, nine plates at the buffet in Vegas alone?! But you just keep on eating like a hog to every city we went to last night! We were supposing to be boozing, not binging!”

I blush as dimly I remember doing my fair share of both of those activities. But while the various alcoholic concoctions my “friends” pressured me to drink all kind of blur together in my head, I vividly remember the taste and smells of all of the food I ate. Memories of pizza, lasagna, spaghetti, mac and cheese, ribs, brisket, fried chicken, hot dogs, hamburgers, French fries, tatter tots, slices of cakes, pies, cobblers and so, so much more all pass through thought my brain even as I cradle my extremely full stomach, which is exposed up to my belly button due to my shirt riding up, in my hands. But even as I blush, I feel a strange kind of pride as I rub my belly and stifle a moan of pleasure. Passing last night’s gluttony of as an accomplishment, I shrug and smirk. “What can I say; I can really put food away when I’m drunk!” 

URP! I allow myself to burp to underscore my point, causing Amy to look away from me in disgust. “That’s nasty, Greta!”

I shrug again, and then slowly rise from the couch in such a way that my butt is now level with Amy’s face, since the blonde is still sitting up on the ground. Then I smirk and say. “Oh, there’s more where that came from!”

POOT! I let out a loud, smelly fart, causing the other girls to hold there noises and Amy to audibly gag. I then openly grin at my former teammates and say. “Ah, I feel a lot better now! And that’s what you get for making fun of a girl with a healthy appetite, bitches! And Amy, don’t ever try to muscle in on my sleeping space again, or I sit on your face next time!”

Amy’s face turns green at that statement, and the other formers of the former C.A.T squad, including Sarah, who is waving her hand in front of her face as she enters the room, also look pretty grossed out too. Sarah’s nose scrunches up in disgust. “Why does it stink in here?”

“We have no idea!” I quickly lie, than glare at the other girls, daring them to contradict me. None of them do, so Sarah just shrugs. “Whatever. Come to the dining room. Chuck made breakfast!”

As it turns out, the nerd is actually a decent cook. Not as good as Fernando, but still pretty good. The amazing smell coming from the full spread of food on the table, which includes bacon, omelets, fruit and most importantly for us hungover girls, coffee, attests to this fact. Still, Amy, Zondra, and I are all forced to wait for Carina to get back....with Morgan in tow for some reason. I smirk at the later party and mouth the words “lots of pizza” to Morgan, in order to cover up the sound of my stomach rumbling shortly after the dork with beard sits down at the table.. And before I can figure out why Morgan is smirking right back and mouthing the words “I’ve got it covered”, Sarah finally uncovers the clear lid keeping the C.A.T squad from their breakfast, and we are all in a mad dash to pile our plates with food to chase away our hangovers!

I get a large helping of every food on the table, a bit more than anybody else has, but my portion is small compared to the massive breakfast that Fernando serves me almost every morning. So naturally, the cheesy, greasy, and sweet confections in front of me go down the hatch like lightning, as I gobble down my breakfast while mostly ignoring the conversation the others at the table are having. And I’m too hungry to care that I’ve finished my large breakfast platter before anybody else has finished there smaller portions, so I seize the last side of bacon on the serving tray before Amy can get it with her outstretched fork.

“Hey!” 

The blonde party girl glares at me, but I just shrug and smirk at her before devouring the last side of bacon in just three bites, then say. “Pigs will be pigs.”

I ignore the concerned looks that Chuck and Sarah shoot me then, as well as Amy’s glare, just long enough for the “fun” to end as Zondra declares that she has to go. One by one, the rest of the girls and I also make excuses to leave (and only then, do I notice that Morgan has already left). Even so, I promise Sarah that Fernando and I will attend her and Chuck’s engagement party tonight; earning me a side hug from my best friend before I depart. 

Personally, I’m glad that this last rendezvous with the C.A.T squad is over, and I’m about to head over to my car, when…

BOOOM!

I see Carina’s car explode right in front of her across the street from my van!

I quickly run (okay, jog, while I feel parts of my body wobbling the whole way) over to Carina’s side, arriving a little behind Chuck and the other girls. I stare down in shock as Carina pulls a piece of metal out of her leg and declares that “It’s part of the bomb!”

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I spot Chuck’s eyes glazing over as his eyelids move rapidly for several seconds. I can tell that Chuck is flashing right now, and if Sarah’s expectant look towards Chuck is any indication, so can Sarah. But before either of can ask the nerd what he saw, he looks up and asks, “Ladies…Who is Augusto Gaez?!”

I sigh. Great. We’re going to have to tell Chuck about a known terrorist, and all the grisly details about why the C.A.T squad broke up, on the day of his and my best friend’s engagement party. At least this day can’t get more awkward.

…A little while later…

“Hey!” I attempt to tackle Augusto, who had infiltrated Castle minutes ago in order to steal sensitive files from the government, all with the traitorous Amy’s help, to the floor when he attempts to run out of Castle with a hard drive full of classified information. I manage to knock the Portuguese terrorist on the ground easily enough, but Amy manages to sneak up behind me and pull my arms back...

SNAP!

Hard.

“Ahh!” I curse my slowed reflexes, which I know very well have been caused by A lack of exercise and good nutrition recently, as I scream when something gets pulled out of place near both of my shoulders. Amy then laughs at me and pushes me away from her with a dismissive hand gesture, while my now useless arms hang limply, and painfully, by my side.

Thankfully, even though I’m in too much pain and shock to stop Augusto and Amy from running out of Castle, and my fellow cats are similarly incapacitated by blows to the head they received from both felons, I do regain my presence of mind fast enough to register the robotic voice coming from Castle’s speakers. “Alert: Emergency lockdown initiated!”

Cursing Amy under my breathe for putting the base on lockdown, but mentally thanking whatever, or whoever, runs the universe that I’m closer to the door than my ex-teammates, I quickly dash towards the exit. And even though my lack of exercise lately means that both my legs and lungs feel like they’re on fire when I reach my destination, and my arms are still hanging uselessly by my sides, I manage to stop the nearest Castle exit from shutting.

“Ow!” 

With my left love handle. Which I didn’t even realize I had. Until just now.

Just kill me now.

Thankfully, embarrassment notwithstanding, my fat, and the Castle doors automatic safety protocols, keeps the door from closing just long enough for Sarah and the others to recover and reach the exit I’ve jammed open. Moments later, Carina, Zondra, and Sarah are able to forcefully pull the door to Castle all the way open. Then, one by one, the rest of the C.A.T. squad (minus one dirty, rotten traitor) and I are able to run through the door before it slams shut behind us. 

It doesn’t take long for the C.A.T squad and Chuck to wrap things up after that. Even though my arms are still too injured for fighting, and my sweaty, out of shape body is the last to catch up to the bad guys, I still manage to yell “Behind you!” fast enough for Sarah to backwards head-butt Augusto, who was sneaking behind my best friend with a gun. Sarah then knocks Augusto out with a roundhouse kick to the face at the same moment that Chuck, who was also on the trail of Augusto and Amy, throws some shards from broken CD’s to knock Amy’s gun away from her hand. After that, Zondra punch Amy in the head hard enough to knock the blonde bimbo to the floor, and Carina kicks the party girl’s gun out of Amy’s reach and points her own sidearm at Amy’s head. 

The rest of the C.A.T squad, myself included, smirk down at Amy’s position on thefloor while Carina asks a rhetorical question. “Going somewhere, pussy?”  
…  
The post op interrogation with General Beckman, which occurs right after Augusto and Amy are lead away in handcuffs, doubtlessly in the direction of a CIA detention center, might just be one of the most embarrassing moments of my life. Or at least the part where the General commends me for my “quick thinking and unorthodox use of a…love handle.”

I sigh as I glare down at the huge bruise on my side. But I console myself with the knowledge that my newly added pounds were at least useful for something today. I don’t have long to dwell on that thought before…

“Ouch!” The on-site medic in Castle quickly pops my dislocated arms back into place! 

. Still, it’s what happens after the medic finishes doing his job that leaves the biggest impression on me. At that moment, General Beckman sighs deeply, in a way that I know she only does when she’s being forced to give out orders that she doesn’t agree with, and then addresses everyone in Castle. “You are dismissed, everyone. Except for you, Greta. I have a special assignment for you.”

My ears perk up at that, and Sarah gives an encouraging smile while Carina and Zondra both mouth the words, “good luck”, before they leave the room. Then I am alone in Castle “with” General Beckman. Morphing my face into a stoic mask, I look directly at the screen. “What are my orders, General?”

The General hesitates for a second, and then says. “Rest up. You’ve sustained injuries again, Greta. Therefore, I insist that you take six weeks paid leave, starting now. That means no mission of any kind, and no Buy More duties. Colonel Casey and Mr. Grimes will be notified about the reason for your absence.”

I give the General an incredulous look. “With all due respect, General, I can still move my arms…” I demonstrate by flexing my biceps (what little of them can be seen under my arm fat, which hangs down several inches below said arms) while suppressing a wince at the pain this simple action causes me. “And my side is just fine, apart from a little bruise…” I slap my bruised love handle, and then suppress another wince. “I’m still in fighting shape….” 

Even I know I was kidding myself with that last line, but my next point has flawless logic. “Plus, I’ve recovered from more serious injuries than these in far less time than six weeks…”

But Beckman shakes her head. “Be that as it may, my orders stand. Six weeks. Paid leave. No missions. No Buy More. I’ll even get someone to fill out your paperwork for this last mission for you. Is that clear, Agent Greta?”

This all seems really suspicious to me, but I reluctantly nod my head. “Yes, General.”

General Beckman nods with a frown on her face. “Good.” Then the General sighs deeply once more. “Oh, and...um…no exercise for those six weeks, either. At all.”

I give the General an incredulous look. “I’m sorry, General. I don’t understand. I know I’ve gotten a bit out of shape recently, so…shouldn’t I be doing more exercise during my break to make up for that now?”

General Beckman almost has a pained expression on her face now, but she doesn’t relent. “Agent Greta…I have orders from on high that you are not to engage in any exercise, at all, during your six weeks of paid leave. Also…” the General takes a deep breathe, then adds another order to my "special assignment." “You have also been ordered not to go on any kind of calorie restricted diet during that time and that you should, and this is a direct quote here “eat whatever you want.” Those are my orders. I’m not at liberty to say more, except that these orders come from within the highest levels of our government. I trust you are still loyal the United States, agent Greta?”

I sigh deeply. But inside, I feel conflicted. Even as part of me is angry for having choices about my diet and fitness taken away from me, and suspicious about why I’m being ordered to slack off in my conditioning (more than I have been lately), another part of me is glad I don’t have to worry about dieting and exercising for the next six weeks. “Yes. Of course, General Beckman. I’ll follow my orders to the letter.”

Shortly after the debriefing Zondra gives me and Fernando a ride to Chuck and Sarah’s engagement party, since it still hurts me to move my arms. I’m actually touched by the gesture, since I’ve been such a bitch to her over the last few years, when I thought she was a traitor, that I didn’t expect Zondra to ever be nice to me again. Therefore, on the way to the party, I feel compelled to say. “Thanks for giving me and my boyfriend a lift, Zondra. And I’m sorry that…over the last few years, I’ve been a bit…”

But Zondra smiles and shakes her head. “Don’t sweat it. If I had been in your shoes, I would have been a bitch to me too. Especially since I’ve been bitchy right back. Still…It’s nice that you and the rest of the squad know that I’m not a traitor now. What do you say? Do you think we can be friends again?”

I smile at Zondra. “Sure, why not?”

“Okay, then.” Zondra then smiles and shakes her head as she stops her car at a red light, then turns to look between me and Fernando in the backseat. “Oh, and Greta? Did you know that Fernando’s been staring at your chest for a minute straight?”

I smile at my fat boyfriend, who is currently doing just what my friend accused him of doing. I then turn to Zondra and laugh. “I know. Why do you think I wore a dress with this kind of neckline, unless I wanted to be looked at? Besides, Fernando’s my boyfriend. He has staring privileges.”

Still, despite the fact that I’m perversely proud than Fernando has been staring at different parts of my chubby body, which is only slightly covered by the little black dress which hugs my recently expanded boobs and belly now, since entering the van, and only looked at my beautiful, skinny friend for the few seconds it took to say. “Nice to meet you. Thanks for the ride”, I decide enough is enough. So I lightly tap my FAT boyfriend’s shoulder hard enough to get his attention. Then I say. “Fernando, my eyes are up here.”

Fernando at least has the decency to blush and look down while trying to cover the evidence of his…excitement with his hands. “Sorry, Greta.”

I smile at my boyfriend and lean over in the car seat to whisper in Fernando’s ear. “Don’t worry about it. I’m glad you still think I’m hot. But save some energy for later tonight, handsome!”

I then give Fernando a quick five second kiss while squeezing his love handles: A promise of things to come. But even this tame gesture is enough to make Zondra look at me and Fernando and roll her eyes after I’ve pulled away from my boyfriend’s lips. “You two are so weird.”

I just ignore my recently reinstated friend and smile at Fernando. And my boyfriend and I hold our soft hands together all the way to the engagement party.

I barely pay attention to the night’s festivities. Aside from doing the obligatory turn to talk to my best friend and bride to-be, Sarah Walker, and telling her “congratulations!” and “I hope you and Chuck have a very happy marriage”, I don’t really interact with anyone but Fernando. And I certainly don’t listen to any speeches that are given. I’m too busy eating amazingly delicious gourmet pizza, and staring at my FAT! boyfriend, who is wearing the suit I bought for him the day before he and I got back together. I love the way that the five pounds he’s gained over the past three weeks had distributed themselves, causing a slight strain on his white button down shirt due his growing moobs and belly.

I do still overhear a few important conversations around me, but I don’t pay too much attention to them. It’s not that I don’t care that Sarah and her future sister in law, Ellie, are getting along so well, or that Morgan and Alex have made up and gotten past the dorky man’s past “relationship” with Carina, or that all of the remaining members of the old C.A.T squad are getting along again. I’m actually glad that things are going well for all of my friends tonight. But holy shit…

This gourmet pizza that Fernando has insisted on hand feeding me like I’m a queen (because to my injured arms) is the best pizza I’ve ever had in my life! So between getting lost in my boyfriend’s eyes (and okay, my gaze occasionally strays to Fernando’s chunky middle and, when he turns around to talk to someone, his huge ass), and the amazing combination of multiple cheeses, five slightly burnt (just enough to make them crispy) meats, pineapple, several savory spices I can’t identify, and crust so light and fluffy I could swear the dough must have been make from clouds pulled down from the heavens, that I’m tasting with every bite my boyfriend hand feeds me, between taking bites of pizza himself, my-mind really doesn’t have room for anything else. But I’m forced to make time for a conversation anyway when Zondra comes up to me cradling her own large slice of perfectly baked heaven.

“You know…” My friend tells me between bits of pizza. “I thought Morgan was crazy for serving pizza at his best friend’s engagement party, but damn! Everyone here has had at least one slice, and this is my third! I’ve completely blown my diet for the day, and I don’t even care, because this is the best pizza I’ve ever had in my life! All of the other cats say the same thing! And we’ve been to Italy, Greta!”

I just nod in agreement as Fernando lifts another slice of pizza to my mouth, but the FAT man I love blushes and turns toward Zondra as I chew. “Thanks! I’m glad you like it! After Morgan paid me to make all of these pizzas for this party, I was afraid my home cooked pizzas wouldn’t be good enough for…”

“Wait…” I smile after I swallow my bite of pizza. “You’re telling me that you made this pizza?!” Suddenly, Morgan’s smug look and reassurance that he had the pizzas covered this morning makes sense. After I blackmailed the bearded buffoon into serving pizza at this engagement party, the little weasel turned around and commissioned my own boyfriend to do the job for him! Morgan probably saved a ton of money for the party that way, and got amazing gourmet pizza out of the deal too. That crafty bastard. I would hate Morgan for his duplicity too, if my boyfriend hadn’t done such an amazing job with this pizza. Damn Fernando and his amazing cooking skills! Even if they are part of the reason I love my FAT boyfriend so much. 

Speaking of which…I glare mildly at Fernando. “Why don’t you make homemade pizza more often, instead of ordering takeout, if you’re so good at it?”

Fernando shrugs sheepishly. “I thought I was out of practice, since it’s been awhile since I’ve made pizza at home. Besides, the ingredients to this pizza are too expensive, unless they’re bought in bulk, and I’ve been forbidden from cooking anything for work functions because…”

“Because three years ago, I asked you to make a chocolate cake with buttercream icing for big Mike’s birthday, back when Mike was still the manager of the Buy More…”

I turn my attention to Morgan, who has walked over towards Fernando, and is now standing behind, and to the right of, my boyfriend. “And it was so good, that people were fighting over cake slices by the end of the party! Even though the cake was massive enough for every employee to have four slices! I um…gained five pounds that day.”  
Morgan clears his throat. “After Jeff and Lester almost got into a fist fight over the last piece of cake, it was decided that Fernando was banned from bringing anything homemade to a work functions ever again. Still,” Morgan shrugs and looks at me.” I figured only a master chef could pull off decent gourmet pizza worthy of a fancy soiree like this one, and Fernando was the only one I knew that could do the job on such short notice, and cheaply enough for this party’s budget. Anyway, I should probably try to find where Alex went off to.”

I smile proudly at my personal “master chef” as Morgan walks off, while Zondra just laughs in my direction and says. “Well, that explains a lot! I take back everything I said about your appetite lately, Greta! It's impressive that you're not absolutely huge! If my boyfriend, who is a fashion model, by the way, could cook half as well as yours, I would probably be 900 pounds right now!”

I frown while trying to decide whether that was a complement or an insult, before Zondra gets a devious look on her face. “Hey Greta, I’m throwing this huge party for my sister this weekend, and I need a good caterer really bad! I don’t suppose you would be interested in switching boyfriends for a few days…”

I give my “friend” a hard glare, but it’s soon replaced with a smile after Fernando and I simultaneously reply to Zondra’s outrageous offer. “No thanks!”

Zondra shrugs. “Suit yourselves.” My former squad mate walks away with a seductive sway to her hips, but Fernando doesn’t even notice, because he’s too busy staring at me while feeding me pizza with one hand and lightly rubbing my belly every few seconds with the other to notice my “friend” leave. What can I say? Fernando may still be a pervert…but he’s MY pervert, now. And for some reason, that just makes me even more anxious to get him home and have my way with him tonight.

Ironically, Fernando is more than ready for some action by the time we get back to my place (since my boyfriend had already given his mom her evening medication, and she assured Fernando she could take her morning medication herself from now on), due to all the seductive looks and gestures I submitted him to during the entire party. But I’m not in any shape to get physical with my boyfriend by then. In fact, the only shape I’m in when I collapse onto the couch in my living room as soon as we get inside: is round.

“Ugh…” I moan as Fernando lifts up my shirt and starts rubbing my bloated belly expertly. “Why did you make me eat nine slices of pizza?!”

Fernando chuckles. “I didn’t make you do anything. You kept begging me for more! You were all ‘more pizza Fernando!” and ‘I can’t get enough of this amazing baked goodness Fernando, I need more!”

“Whatever…” I moan. “It’s not like you didn’t eat a lot of your own masterpiece de pizza yourself….”

Fernando shrugs. “Sure. That’s why I have this…” Fernando pulls up his own shirt and now I’m moaning for a completely different reason as he gently places my right hand over his FAT, sexy, bloated stomach, and I start to rub Fernando’s belly while he continues to rub mine. “But…”Fernando adds with a cheeky smirk on his face. “I only had five slices. Sometimes, I swear you have an even bigger appetite than I do!”

I internally sigh in response to Fernando’s words, as I ruminate on the fact that I’ve always had a big appetite, which is why I was very chubby before some of my middle school “friends” pressured me to go on a diet when I was twelve. And even after that, when I was actively trying to keep my eating habits in check, my appetite had still caused me to eat enough that I had to exercise at least three hours every day in order to stay fit enough to be a secret agent. Which I’m not anymore. Fit, that is. And I know my relationship to Fernando has, in a lot of ways, been the catalyst for my present transformation from physical fitness back to physical fatness. But I also know in my heart that I just can’t bear to give my wonderful fat boyfriend up.

This makes General Beckman’s latest directive all the more perplexing and infuriating. Can’t she see that my relationship to Fernando is bringing my inner fat girl back out fast enough as it is!? Why would my CO possibly want me to stop even trying to diet and exercise? Then the answer comes to me. For some reason, someone in the federal government wants me to get fat again!

Even though I’m trying to keep my face as stoic as possible, Fernando must see some of the worry in my eyes, because my boyfriend quickly adds. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that! You can eat whatever you want, Sandra! Anyway…” Fernando quickly changes the subject by pulling a DVD case out of the large collection of action movies near my TV. “Since you’re too full for…other activities right now, why don’t we watch one of those movies you keep telling me I need to see? Pulp Fiction. I’ve heard a lot about this one….”

I smile and nod at Fernando’s attempts to make me feel better, but as he pops the DVD into my player; I decide I need to ask him something important. “Fernando...I know you said you at the beginning of our relationship that you wouldn’t mind if I gained a few pounds, but I’ve gained quite a bit more than that recently, along with a bigger appetite, and I was wondering if you thought I…”

Fernando’s interrupting reply is surprising, and also completely the right one as he pulls me into a long kiss that last over a minute, and he squeezes my love handles (but not hard enough to aggravate my bruise) in adoration at the same time. After he finally pulls away from the kiss, Fernando smiles at me lovingly. “Sandra, I love your new curves! And I’m glad you enjoy my cooking so much! Now please stop worrying and watch the movie.”

I smile back at Fernando and do as my boyfriend asks, and my worries about my continuing expansion are put at bay for a while. Over the course of the film, I make myself comfortably by slowly stretching my legs out over the couch, even as Fernando turns towards me slightly to give me a comfortable surface to lean against. Before too long, my back is resting against Fernando’s belly, and my head is nestled comfortably between Fernando’s small moobs. 

We stay sitting like this (even though it’ probably not too comfortable for Fernando), until we reach the scene where Bruce Willis’ character, Butch, is talking to his girlfriend, Fabienne, in bed, and the latter party has a bit of a monologue of all the reasons that she wants to grow a pot belly. But Butch makes it very clear he doesn’t want his girlfriend to do that. At that moment, Fernando puts his hand under my shirt and starts rubbing my now painless, but still bloated, stomach, all while whispering in my ear. “I love your pot belly.”

I turn to look Fernando in the eyes, and the FAT man looks terrified that he’s said the wrong thing for a second. But then I form my lips into a seductive pout while taking my shirt and bra off, and my boyfriend’s eyes quickly glaze over with lust instead. That’s all the permission I need to start taking off his clothes as well…

Over an hour later, Fernando and I finally manage to draw our naked bodies away from each other. The first thing I think when I come out of my love and lust induced euphoria is that I will need to get a professional to clean this couch, pronto. For obvious reasons. The second thing I think is that Fernando and I missed the ending of one of my favorite films, if my TV and DVD player, which have automatically shut off by now, are any indication. I’m not, at all, sorry about that. But my next thought quickly overrides the other two, as Fernando sits up and puts one hand on my left breast and one hand on my belly. Then all I can think about is that I’m ready for round two.

So I whisper seductively into my boyfriend’s ear. “Let’s take this show to the bedroom.” And Fernando and I quickly do so, while admiring each other’s jiggling breasts, belly, and ass while making our way to my bed . And if the mutual lust (as evidenced by the excitement of “little Fernando”, and my boyfriend moaning “Sandra!” r) we feel when Fernando and I pull each other into another deep kiss as soon as we are both in bed, causing both of our full, squishy bellies to become flush with each other, is any indication, Fernando and I are going to go all night long again.

My name is Sandra. But most people call me Greta. And despite the embarrassing events I’ve experienced over the past couple of days as the result of my recent weight gain, I’m starting to think I’m going to enjoy getting fat again for my country!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We once again reach the end of another chapter, dear readers! I hope you enjoyed it, but feel free to leave me any kind of feedback, be it constructive criticism, kudos (if you feel I deserve it), or positive comments, if you wish to do so! I hope you are all enjoying the new turn this story is taking, and Greta's/Sandra's new attitude towards her own expanding figure. And for those of you who have read my growing soulmates story, don't worry. The reasons for Greta's strange new assignment are completely different than the "forced" weight gain for my female protagonist in that other story, and Greta's new assignment will tie in with my take on the events of the show! 
> 
> Anyway, until next time, remember,
> 
> ...Some Like It Fat

**Author's Note:**

> So there it is. The first chapter of this odd duck of a fanfic. Again, I hope at least a few people enjoyed it. And please, feel free to leave feedback for this chapter in the form of comments, or, if anyone believes they are warranted, kudos. In either case, thank you for reading this far!


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